The Boy Who Died
by oceans-of-light
Summary: Her own son dead, Bellatrix raises the child she was sent to murder as her own. Harry Potter has become Henry Lestrange and don't you try to tell him otherwise. New Summary, Dark Harry AU mild H/Hr
1. Bellatrix

A/N: Hey, everyone! This is a new story that I've recently come up with and I am pretty excited about it. I've never heard of a story where Harry is raised by Bellatrix, but Voldemort doesn't know that he's Harry Potter, so hopefully this one will be a hit! So, please read and review! I'd love to know what you think!

Oh and the Potters and Lestranges in this one, as in James and Rodolphus, are distant cousins.

I'm Canadian so I try to use all the British ways to say things – like jumper instead of sweater, but if I mess up, let me know

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to the wonderful JK Rowling.

**Chapter One – Bellatrix **

There was not a sound in the whole cemetery, save for a few far off sounds of grieving. It was nearing dusk, the yellow orb sinking closer and closer to the horizon. It was late October and so the temperatures were chilly as evening drew closer.

There were only a few people left in the cemetery. A young witch was wailing about how life wasn't fair as an older gentleman comforted her, a motherly looking woman was sobbing softly as she laid flowers on a tomb of a long dead wizard and a group of teenage boys were standing, clustered around a grave of a fallen friend.

These people Bellatrix recognized. The young witch's brother had just been killed by Death Eaters in a raid Bellatrix had taken part in. The motherly looking woman had been the mother of one of Bellatrix's school mates; the boy had gotten mauled by a Hippogriff and killed. The teenage boys were students at Hogwarts, as per their Ravenclaw uniforms. She didn't know who they were mourning, but at that moment it didn't matter to her.

She was standing in front of a fresh grave, wearing her new black silk cloak with the hood pulled over her head to hide her identity. The grave didn't have a tombstone yet, as the funeral had just taken place that morning but Bellatrix knew who's it was. It was the grave of Rodolphus Lestrange, her husband. He'd been killed just a few days ago by some Aurors.

She wasn't crying; she hadn't loved Rodolphus, but he had been a dear friend. But it wasn't like Bellatrix hadn't lost friends before. This time, she was mourning because of her son. He would grow up without a father all because of a few stupid Light warriors.

Her son, Henry, had just celebrated his first birthday on June the 22nd. He knew something was different; the child was bright. The day after Rodolphus had died, Henry had been crying heavily. Even when Bellatrix held him, he still wailed, wanting his father. Right now, he was sleeping in her arms as she looked at the grave of Rodolphus.

Narcissa Malfoy, her younger sister, had been standing about two metres behind Bellatrix and Henry with her husband Lucius and baby son Draco.

Narcissa had come closer and now murmured to Bellatrix, "Bella, let me take Henry home now. Lucius and I can handle him and Draco for as long as you need us to. He needs some proper rest; he looks ill."

Bellatrix's grip tightened on her baby. "No, Cissy. Henry will be fine with me." She turned her black eyes onto her sister. "Do you not trust me to take care of my own child?"

Narcissa shook her head. "Of course I trust you, Bella. I only thought -"

"You thought wrong, Narcissa," said Bellatrix, her voice as soft and silky as a panther. "Henry and I shall be fine. You and Lucius can go now – I just need a few moments longer."

Narcissa bowed her head in agreement and kissed Bellatrix on the cheek. "Come to our house," she pleaded. "We have more than enough room and I hate to think of you all alone in that huge Manor of yours now that –" She stopped talking.

"Now that Rodolphus is dead? I am perfectly able to take care of myself, Narcissa," she snapped.

"I know that, Bella. I just –"

"Go, Narcissa. Henry and I shall return to Lestrange Manor."

Narcissa sighed. "All right, then." She kissed her sister's cheek once more and turned away. She walked back to where Lucius Malfoy stood, holding their baby son Draco. "Let's go home, Lucius," said Narcissa softly.

After they were gone, Bellatrix sighed and turned away from the grave, tears still glittering in her eyes. She looked down at her sleeping baby. He wasn't sleeping peacefully. He was turning a lot and looked like he was about to wake up. Only a few moments later, his black eyes opened and he started to cry.

"Hush, Henry," soothed Bellatrix. "It's all right, I'm here. Go back to sleep. We'll be home soon. Soon we'll be home."

But Henry didn't stop crying. He wailed and wailed.

Finally, Bellatrix took out her wand. "_Silencio_," she murmured. Instantly the child's cries were silenced. He looked up at Bellatrix with tears still running down his little face.

"Much better," she said, satisfied. "Let's go home, Henry." She walked to the edge of the cemetery in order to Apparate away. "Tomorrow I'll take you to see Auntie Cissy and Uncle Lucius, okay my darling? You can play with Draco while I attend to something. To what, perhaps you are wondering, dear child? Mummy has a death to avenge."

* * *

It was a quiet afternoon in Godric's Hollow and a redheaded woman, named Lily Potter, was sitting at the kitchen table, absently drinking tea. There was a newspaper, with a photo of the village of Hogsmeade on the cover. Hovering over the town was a green skull with a huge snake slithering out of its mouth. There was a huge crowd, surrounding the town square. The headline read, 'THREE BODIES DUMPED IN HOGSMEADE TOWN SQUARE!'

Lily sighed. More deaths; it was becoming almost a daily event. Lily unfolded the paper and began to read.

THREE BODIES DUMPED IN HOGSMEADE TOWN SQUARE.

_By Gretel Hurtz _

_The residents of the village of Hogsmeade woke up this morning to the sight of the Dark Mark hovering over the village. Instant pandemonium ensued. Aurors and Mediwizards arrived on scene immediately. Three bodies had been dumped carelessly in the town square. _

_The bodies are of three Aurors, Joel McLaggen, Melissa Bell and Warwick Moore, were discovered this morning by Ruby Corner, a resident of Hogsmeade. _

"_I was out walking my dog Snuffles," said Corner, "When he started pulling me towards this alley. When I found the bodies, I screamed and immediately alerted the Aurors."_

_Mediwizards had confirmed that each victim was killed with the Killing Curse, as recently as last night. The bodies have been moved to St Mungo's, where they will be kept until the families can arrange funerals. _

Lily stopped reading as someone called her name. "Lily!" shouted James, Lily's husband, bursting into the kitchen. "Did you hear the news?"

Lily sighed and put her teacup down. She nodded wearily. "The three deaths in Hogsmeade? Yes, I heard."

The black haired man, with hazel eyes hidden behind glasses, flopped down at the kitchen table. "I'm so sick of this," he said. "Sick of Death Eaters chasing us all the time, wanting us to join Voldemort; sick of all the deaths; sick of not being able to run around with Padfoot, Moony and Wormtail –"

Lily put her hand on James's arm. "I know, James," she said softly.

James looked up and smiled weakly at Lily. Then he sat up straight, running a hand through his hair before standing up.

"Where are you going?" asked Lily.

"To get Harry. Is he still napping?"

"Yes, James. Don't wake him up!" But James had already left to get their son. He returned a few minutes later, holding a little boy. Harry had tousled black hair and startling green eyes. He looked like James, but with Lily's eyes. He also looked disoriented and half asleep.

"Lily," said James, wrinkling his nose. "He smells."

"So change him," said Lily simply.

"Can you do it?"

Lily didn't answer, but just drank from her tea again.

"Fine," said James darkly. He stalked out of the kitchen and returned a few minutes later. Harry was wearing a fresh nappy and looked happy. He was chewing on a toy Hippogriff.

"Take that awful thing out of Harry's mouth, James!" said Lily, standing up to take Harry away from James. She took the toy out of Harry's mouth and placed it in his hands. "Don't put this is your mouth, Harry," she said, scolding him lightly. Harry just blinked at her and then stuck the toy in his mouth again.

"Oh, calm down, Lily. Getting germs from that toy are the least of our worries."

Lily just looked at James.

"Okay, sorry. Harry, take that out of your mouth."

Harry ignored him.

James sighed. "Aw, well I tried."

Lily rolled her eyes. She got a bottle out for Harry and magicked the milk warm. She sat down next to James at the table. "Are Remus, Peter and Sirius coming over later?"

"Yeah, Sirius said he'd be here in a matter of minutes," said James. "He just stuck his head through my fireplace before I came down with Harry," he explained at Lily's look.

Lily rolled her eyes. "Sirius is so –"

"Hello everyone!" said a voice from the doorway. Lily and James both jumped up and grabbed their wands, but relaxed as they saw that it was Sirius Black, James's best friend.

"Speak of the devil," muttered James, rolling his eyes, sitting back down at the kitchen table. "And the devil shall appear."

"No fair, Prongs," complained Sirius, grinning broadly. He had long black hair, black eyes that had a mischievous glint to them, and was devilishly handsome. "I'm not the devil." He walked over to Lily and plucked Harry from her arms.

"Hey, you," said Sirius. Harry hiccupped and spit up all over Sirius. "Oh, brilliant job, Harry," he muttered, whipping out his wand and cleaning up his robes.

James and Lily laughed, but turned serious at once; it was hard to laugh in the times of war. "Why do you think those Aurors were killed?"

Sirius sighed. "They killed a Death Eater a few days ago. Remember that raid on Diagon Alley? They killed Rodolphus Lestrange. My guess is that my dear cousin Bellatrix got her revenge."

Lily shook her head, disgusted. "I can't believe that you're related to that monster, Sirius."

"Neither can I," admitted Sirius. "Did you guys know that she has a –"

There was a loud sound from outside and a yelped curse. "Wormtail," James and Sirius said together.

Peter, a short man with watery eyes, burst into the room. "Hey, everyone," he greeted, flopping down at the table. "Sorry about your rubbish bin, Prongs," he added, while Sirius started to roar with laughter.

James waved that away. "No worries, Wormtail. Did you trip over the cat again?"

Peter nodded darkly. "It always gets in the way."

Sirius stopped laughing. "I know. I hate cats, you know that, James? Why did you get one?"

"We thought it'd keep you and Wormtail away," said Lily, laughing. "You know, dogs don't like cats and cats chase rats – but sadly that didn't work," she said, gesturing to the two men, sitting at her table. "Here you both are."

Sirius pretended to look offended. "I'm hurt, Lily," he said. He looked to James. "Prongs, tell your wife that she's being mean."

James laughed. "Sorry, Padfoot, but if I tried that, I'd be kicked out. Lily's the boss."

Sirius muttered something that sounded like 'wimp' and crossed his arms across his chest.

Lily picked up the Daily Prophet on the table and hit Sirius over the head with it.

"Ouch!"

"That's what you get for insulting my wife, Padfoot," said James, grinning.

"I didn't insult _her_," said Sirius, rubbing his head. "I insulted _you_." He muttered some bad words under his breath and got another whack on the head.

"Sirius! You are not to talk like that in my house! What kind of example are you being for Harry?" Lily demanded.

Sirius just rolled his eyes. "He's too little to even notice what we're saying," said Sirius.

"He is almost a year!" said James indignantly. "That's a big boy."

Sirius and Peter exchanged a look. "You have no idea how pathetic you just sounded there, James," said Peter.

"A year old is not a big boy," added Sirius.

James shot a dark look at his best friends. "Lily, hand me that newspaper."

"Okay, okay!" said Sirius, ducking as James swiped at his head. "Gees, you two are violent today." He snatched the paper from James's hand and said, "I'm keeping this. Here, Wormtail, hold Harry."

Peter took Harry and looked at the baby with his watery eyes. Almost immediately, Harry began to cry. "He doesn't like you," said James, laughingly. He took Harry from Peter and started to bounce him on his knee. Harry giggled, once more the happy little boy.

"Hmm," said Sirius, "That lady in Hogsmeade named her dog Snuffles? Snuffles. Snuffles. Does that suit me better than Padfoot?"

James and Peter both laughed. "From that whole article all you got was what the lady named her dog?"

"I'm not surprised," said Lily.

The door bell rang and everyone jumped to their feet. "I'll go," said Sirius. "It's probably Remus, but just to be safe..."

Everyone waited with baited breath for Sirius to return. When he did, he was laughing and joking with Remus Lupin. James and Lily exchanged thankful looks and Peter sighed in relief.

"Hello," said Remus, after stopping his laughter with Sirius. "How are you all?" He looked shabby and tired; it was only a week after the full moon and it always took him ten days to fully recover.

"Good," said James. "How about you, Moony? Getting ready for the next cycle?"

Remus nodded. "Unfortunately."

James sighed wistfully. "I wish I could go out running with you guys."

Lily suddenly stood. "Do you all want tea?"

"Yes, please," they all said.

"James, make your friends some tea," said Lily. "I just have to go get something." Lily left the kitchen, leaving behind James looking furious about having to make tea.

"You guys want tea, you go make it yourself," said James. "I'm not your servant," he told Sirius who looked extremely put out.

Lily returned with a camera in her hand. "James, bring Harry here for a moment. Sirius, can you take a picture of us three?"

"Why do you want a picture all of a sudden, Lily?" asked James, standing up and walking over to her, carrying Harry.

"I don't know," Lily admitted. "I just feel like somehow none of us will all be together again for a long time." She shivered and rubbed her arms.

There was a silence as Lily's words sunk in, but then Sirius said, "Way to ruin the mood, Lils."

"Oh, just take the picture," she snapped.

"All right, all right, don't get your knickers in a knot," said Sirius. He aimed the camera at them. "Say 'Snape stinks'."

"Sirius!"

"Oh, fine. Say 'Snuffles'."

"You are so ridiculous," said James, laughing.

"One, two, three!" said Sirius, ignoring James.

Lily and James smiled brightly, holding little Harry between them. Harry had a knack for smiling whenever he saw a camera pointed at him.

Sirius took the picture, and shook his head. "You didn't say Snuffles."

Lily ignored that comment. "Thanks, Padfoot," said Lily. "Peter, would you mind developing this for us? I can't go to Diagon Alley and get any supplies or anything ..."

"Uh, oh yes, I will," said Peter, taking the camera from Lily. He looked at it as if he'd never seen a camera before.

Come to think of it, thought Lily, Peter had been very distracted lately, but she didn't know why.

Remus turned to Sirius. "What was that with the whole Snuffles thing?"

"Oh, I was reading in the Prophet about some lady whose dog is named Snuffles. I was thinking if I ever got tired of Padfoot, we could call me Snuffles instead."

James and Peter exchanged glances. "I'm not calling you Snuffles, mate," said James.

Sirius sniffed and pretended to look offended. "Harry will call me Snuffles, won't you, Harry?"

Harry just looked at Sirius and giggled. He reached out a hand and yanked hard on Sirius's hair.

"Ouch! James, your son just assaulted me."

"Good boy, Harry," said James, not even looking at Sirius.

Remus had been reading the _Prophet_ article. He put it down and shook his head sadly. "I'm not surprised that's all you got out of it, Sirius," said Remus.

"My thoughts exactly," said Lily.

* * *

There was a loud _pop _and suddenly Bellatrix appeared on a street corner. The street was deserted, totally empty.

That wasn't uncommon. After all, Bellatrix had just Apparated outside Riddle Manor, the home of Lord Voldemort.

He'd summoned her and so she'd instantly dropped Henry, who had a bad cold, off at Narcissa's and hurried to Riddle Manor.

There were three Death Eaters standing outside the huge, iron gate. In addition to the wards Voldemort himself had placed around the house, there were always three Death Eaters standing guard.

This house was under the Fidelius Charm and Voldemort was the Secret Keeper, ensuring that no one knew the place of it except his most trusted followers.

As Bellatrix strode up to the three Death Eaters, she pulled up the black silk sleeve covering her left arm and quickly flashed the Dark Mark at them.

They all recognised Bellatrix and immediately hurried to open the gate for her.

Bellatrix didn't even acknowledge them as she strode up the pathway to the huge Manor. Riddle Manor was at least four storeys high and wasn't just called Riddle because that was Voldemort's family name. It was the Riddle Manor because it was a huge puzzle.

Voldemort's chambers were in the basement, his private study, bedroom and bathroom adjoining the meeting room where all the Inner Circle Death Eaters gathered with him to discuss, plan and report.

Bellatrix hurried through the house, anxious to see the Dark Lord. He had been so kind, so gracious to her after Rodolphus had died – he'd allowed Bellatrix to kill the Aurors who murdered him herself!

Voldemort's meeting room was private and reserved for him and his most trusted Death Eaters. To access it, you had to cross Voldemort's receiving chamber – where the Death Eaters would report the outcomes of raids and the like. There was only one chair in the room, tall backed, black marble chair that was reserved for him and only him. It was seated on a black dais where Nagini, Voldemort's snake, was snoozing.

Nagini didn't scare Bellatrix, but she knew that the snake was deadly and frightened many of the weaker Death Eaters.

Bellatrix crossed the room and opened an almost invisible door – if you didn't know it was there, you would totally miss it. . She was about to place her hand on the opening stone, but she heard voices from within. It sounded as if the Dark Lord was arguing with someone.

"Please, my Lord! You can kill the child, kill her husband, but please spare Lily! I've been a faithful follower of you for so long and I haven't asked for anything before –"

"Lord Voldemort is well aware of that, Snape," said Voldemort's icy voice.

"I'm sorry, my Lord. Please, excuse my – my begging, my Lord, I just –"

"Silence, please Snape. Now, you are correct and as Lord Voldemort is a generous man, I will grant you your wish. It is true, you did tell me the prophecy and as such I can rid myself of the one who is said to destroy me. This can be your reward. You ask me kill Harry Potter and the boy's father, but not his mother, Lily Potter, is that correct?"

"Yes, my lord," said the voice, sounding a little relieved.

Voldemort laughed. "You are truly horrible, Severus. Killing a woman's child and husband just so you can have her."

"I –"

"Do not deny it, Severus, you are easy to read. Very well, I shall not kill Lily Potter unless she stands in my way of murdering the boy."

"Oh, thank you, my Lord –"

"I do have to warn you, Severus, that if the girl gets in my way of killing the child, she also shall die."

"I – I understand, my Lord."

"Very well. Now Bellatrix? You may enter."

Bellatrix jumped. She hadn't realized Voldemort knew she was here, but then again he knew everything.

She placed her hand on the seventh stone from the wall, seven stones up from the floor and the door slithered and hissed as it opened for her.

"Ah, Bella," said Voldemort, as Bellatrix entered the room. He was seated in another tall backed, black marble chair and there were papers strewn out before him on the table. He was holding one up, reading it with a smile on his face.

Voldemort wasn't alone, though. The other voice that Bellatrix had heard was Severus Snape. He was sitting a few seats down from the Dark Lord, looking nauseous and pale.

Bellatrix ignored Snape completely, as she did to almost everyone when Voldemort was present. "My Lord," said Bellatrix demurely, bowing low before him. "You wished to see me?"

"Yes." He motioned for Bellatrix to take a seat at the table. "I was just reading the _Daily Prophet_," he said, absently, as Bellatrix took a seat opposite Severus. "Very nice work with those Aurors, by the way," he commented, putting the paper he had down on the table.

"Thank you, my Lord," said Bellatrix proudly.

Voldemort sighed. "Now, to business. Severus and I were discussing the way to get to Harry Potter, the boy I believe that is the one in the prophecy, as you most likely heard from listening at the door."

Bellatrix blushed.

"Don't be worried, dear Bella. I am not upset with you," said Voldemort. He reached for another piece of paper and looked at it, with a frown.

"Thank you, my Lord," murmured Bellatrix.

"What unsettles me is that the prophecy could also mean this boy – Neville Longbottom." He slid the paper across to Bellatrix. It was a photograph, showing a man and a woman, holding a young boy. They were standing outside an old house, waving to the camera. "You see my dilemma. What if I kill the one child and it turns out to be the other? Or I kill the other instead and it turns out to be the original one? That would not be good. So I have decided to kill both children – it will save me a great deal of time."

"Yes, my Lord, what a brilliant idea –" began Bellatrix.

Voldemort held up a hand for silence and immediately Bellatrix fell silent. "The only problem I can see with that plan is that once one child is dead, that fool Dumbledore will secure the other one so tightly that I will not be able to touch him. So, the two must be killed on the same night, but even I cannot be in the same place at once." His red eyes flickered to Bellatrix. "That's where you come in, Bella. You will kill one of the boys for me."

Bellatrix could barely contain herself from standing up and doing a little jig. To be given this honour! "Of – of course, my lord!" she said. "I would be honoured to do this for you."

Voldemort nodded, as if he already knew this. He waved his hand and the photo Bellatrix was holding flew out of her hand and into his. "How about little Neville, the pureblood?" asked Voldemort, making the photo spin in the air with magic. "Or young Harry, the half-blood?" Another photo rose, one of another family. The father was holding the child and making him wave to the camera, while the mother had wrapped her arm around her husband's waist. They were standing in front of a kitchen counter.

Bellatrix opened her mouth, but Snape interrupted her. "My lord," said Snape, looking confused and horrified. "What do you mean?"

"I mean exactly what I say, Snape," snapped Voldemort. "Do not question Lord Voldemort."

"You said you'd be the one to kill Harry! You promised that you would keep Lily alive!" shouted Snape, standing up going for his wand.

Bellatrix also jumped up, ready to defend Voldemort, but Voldemort had already said, almost lazily, "_Crucio_!"

Snape fell to the floor, hitting his head on the table and screaming in pain. Voldemort held the curse for only 30 seconds before lifting it.

Snape got to his feet, shaking. He looked paler and swallower than ever.

"You will obey your Lord, Snape," said Voldemort. He had stood up and was standing at his full, menacing height. "What Lord Voldemort says, you will follow, without a question or a doubt in your mind. Is that understood?"

Snape stuttered out a quick agreement.

Voldemort said, continuing his rampage, "I said that Lily Potter would be kept alive if I were the one to kill her son. You did not ask for Bellatrix to spare her life, if she were the one going after Harry."

"My Lord?" asked Bellatrix. "Does that mean you want to me to kill the Potter child?"

Voldemort didn't look at Bellatrix, just at Snape's reaction. He looked terrified; terrified for the life of the woman he loved. "Yes, Bellatrix. You will kill Harry Potter and I will kill Neville Longbottom."

"No!" shouted Snape, leaping at Voldemort. Bellatrix shrieked out in alarm, but Voldemort moved out of the way easily. Snape hit the marble chair with a thud that echoed throughout the whole chamber.

"_Crucio_!" said Voldemort, pointing his wand at Snape. This time he held the charm for a full minute.

"What did I tell you, Severus?" whispered Voldemort softly, after he'd released Snape from the curse. "You are to obey my commands. Now, I will ask you again – do you understand what your Lord is saying?"

"Y-yes, my L-Lord," stuttered Snape.

"Good," said Voldemort, over the rest of Snape's muttered apologies. "So you won't interrupt us again – _Silencio_!"

Snape's voice was instantly silent.

"Much better," said Voldemort, satisfied. He walked back to the marble chair and sat back down. He flicked the photo of the Potters at Bellatrix. "Keep the picture, Bella. Now, as Bellatrix is the one who is going to kill Harry Potter, perhaps Bellatrix would be kind to your request for sparing Lily Potter?"

Bellatrix looked at the Dark Lord. "I will do whatever you wish of me, my Lord," she said. But in her mind she was thinking, Why on earth would I spare a filthy Mudblood?

Apparently, Bellatrix wasn't thinking straight because she forgot that Voldemort can read minds.

"You are correct, Bella," said Voldemort. "Why should she save Lily Potter, Snape? Do you honestly think that she'll forgive you for letting Lord Voldemort murder her son and husband? Do you think that she could possibly love _you_?" The contempt in Voldemort's voice was impossible to miss.

Snape just looked at Voldemort, a barely disguised expression of hate on his face.

Voldemort laughed softly and flicked his hand at Snape. Snape was blown backwards into the wall and he crumbled into a heap onto the floor. "Now listen to your Lord, Severus," said Voldemort, walking over to where Snape was laying. "Bellatrix will spare your beloved Lily."

Bellatrix looked sharply at Voldemort; she couldn't believe her ears.

"Don't look at me so, Bella. Lily Potter is a powerful witch – it is hard to believe that she is a Mudblood. She would be useful to us if she was Imperiused. Perhaps we could Imperiuse her to love you too, Snape," said Voldemort, chuckling softly.

Bellatrix snorted with laughter.

"But, Bellatrix," added Voldemort, "do not kill the child's father either. It will be much more entertaining for us to have dear Lily still have her husband, won't it now Snape?"

Snape looked furious, but he could not speak.

"Yes, yes, Severus, I know your opinion on that matter. We will arrange that there will be an 'urgent Order meeting' the night Bellatrix and I will kill the two boys. The Longbottoms and Potters would not miss such an important meeting, I am sure."

Voldemort paused for a moment, summoning a glass of water. He sipped it lazily and then continued. "We'll arrange for our little spy in the Potter's confidence to be home when Bellatrix arrives to murder the child. He will tell the Potters that he'll babysit Harry, not to worry, everything is under control. Then, Bellatrix will arrive, kill Harry and leave. And then," said Voldemort slowly, a truly evil smile creeping up onto his face, "the Potters will arrive and find their dear Harry, the Chosen One, dead."

"What of Pettigrew, my lord?" asked Bellatrix. "I leave him alive?"

"Yes, Bella," said Voldemort. "He is a Death Eater – you shall not kill him unless I command it." Voldemort sighed loudly and put the glass of water down on the table. "Up now, Snape," he said, waving his hand. Snape was brutally forced to his feet by the magic and his voice was returned. "You may leave, Snape," said Voldemort.

Snape hurriedly bowed low and half ran out the door.

As the door was creaking to a close, a long snake slithered in. Nagini didn't pause as she slithered towards Voldemort. She wrapped herself around the long marble chair and rested her head on Voldemort's shoulder. He stroked her absently with a long white hand. "I do not trust Snape to keep the date of our attack secret – we shall attack the boys on Hallowe'en."

"Hallowe'en, my lord? But – that is in two days!"

"Yes, Bellatrix, I am aware of that," he said lazily. "You may leave, Bellatrix."

"Yes, my lord," said Bellatrix, rising from the table. She wondered vaguely if Henry was feeling any better than when she'd dropped him off at Narcissa's.

She was almost at the door, when Voldemort called out. "Bellatrix, on the night where we will kill the two boys, there can be no reason why you do not show up or do the deed, is that understood?"

"Of course, my lord," said Bellatrix, surprised. She would never miss this opportunity, this chance to show the Dark Lord how much she was honoured to be in his service.

"Good," said Voldemort. "Return tomorrow, Bellatrix. I will have our spy tell you the name of where the Potters are hidden – he is their Secret Keeper."

"Yes, my Lord," said Bellatrix. She bowed once and then left the room.

The door swung closed behind her, leaving Bellatrix one last glimpse of the Dark Lord. She exited the Manor, striding past the three guard Death Eaters so quickly that they jumped in alarm.

She Disapparated as soon as she could, landing just outside the Malfoy Manor with a small _pop_.

Bellatrix entered the house. It was a beautiful home, even Bellatrix couldn't deny that. "Narcissa?" she called. "Cissy, where are you?"

Narcissa appeared at the top of the stairs, holding Draco in her arms. "Oh, Bellatrix, thank goodness you're here!"

"Why? What has happened? Where is Henry?"

Narcissa looked terrified at the expression on Bellatrix's face. "Henry is sleeping in Draco's room. He is much, _much _sicker than he was when you dropped him off."

"Did you give him a Pepper-Up Potion?" asked Bellatrix, ascending to the stairs. She reached the landing and stared at her sister, hands on her hips.

"I did," said Narcissa, juggling Draco to her other hip. "But it did no good."

Bellatrix looked down the hallway to Draco's room. The door was slightly open. "I'll take him home," she announced, heading for Draco's room. "Then he'll feel better."

She opened the door and hurried to the crib. Henry was sleeping, his hair plastered to his little forehead. He looked very, very sick.

Bellatrix leaned over the crib and picked him up gently. "Oh, Henry," she murmured. "Why are you sick?"

"Bella, don't you think you should take him to St. Mungo's?" asked Narcissa. As soon as she said that, it was obvious from her expression at how stupid that would be. One of Voldemort's most feared and most wanted Death Eaters, strolling into St Mungo's and demanding that the Healers there heal her son. Yeah, right.

"Or at least to a Healer?" persisted Narcissa. "The Dark Lord has many that he'd allow you to use –"

"No, no," said Bellatrix distractedly. "The Dark Lord is busy. Besides, when Henry is at home, he will be better."

Narcissa looked as if she thought Bellatrix was mad, which in fact she was. Bellatrix had never quite been sane, but since joining the Dark Lord and murdering so many, she'd gone round the bend. Losing Rodolphus had also rendered her quite mad; even though she hadn't loved him, they were friends and Rodolphus was the only one to calm Bellatrix down – something even Voldemort had to use a spell for.

Bellatrix was cradling Henry close to her chest as she brushed past Narcissa and out of the door. She had hurried down the stairs and was almost at the door when Narcissa called out.

"Bellatrix, wait!" called Narcissa. She'd set Draco down and ran after her sister. "Please! You must take Henry to a Healer. He is sick – I've never even seen this type of illness before!"

But Bellatrix was already too far gone, sinking into her deranged belief that taking Henry home would cure him.

"Goodbye, Cissy," said Bellatrix absently. "Tell Draco that I said hello."

* * *

When Bellatrix and Henry arrived at Lestrange Manor, she hurried him up to his room, telling the house elves that she would murder them if they disturbed her, through the halls drenched with the setting sun's light. Henry's nursery was at the end of the hall. She put him down in his ebony crib and drew her wand. She didn't know what to do – she wasn't good at healing spells.

Henry coughed once, spitting up a bit of blood.

Bellatrix panicked. She dropped her wand and picked up her son. She cradled him to her chest, whispering the most comforting words she could.

Henry didn't even respond. He just coughed once more, staining Bellatrix's best green robes. She didn't care, not at all.

Bellatrix backed up into the nursery wall and sunk down until she was sitting on the floor. She held Henry as he coughed up blood, slept fitfully and cried.

Bellatrix could feel her heart sinking into a pit of hopelessness and despair as she listened to the dying sounds of her son. She'd just lost Rodolphus – she couldn't lose Henry as well.

It was almost midnight when Henry fell silent. Bellatrix moved him slightly and he moaned a little. She turned him so that she could see into his eyes. They had fluttered shut a long time ago, but she had to see his beautiful black eyes just once more.

"Henry," she whispered, caressing his forehead. "Open your eyes, Henry," she whispered.

Henry was bright and clearly understood that Bellatrix wanted something from him, and he opened his eyes.

His eyes were beautiful, just like Bellatrix's. They were like staring into the depths of the ocean, where it is no longer blue – just black. The sparkle that they usually held was almost gone.

"Don't ... don't die on me," said Bellatrix. For the first time in a long time, she could feel tears starting to well.

That was one command that Henry couldn't obey. His eyes fluttered close again and his little chest stopped moving up and down.

Bellatrix's eyes widened. "No, no, no, no, no," she said, starting to shake Henry. "No, Henry! Wake up!"

When he did not, Bellatrix put him down and started to sob. She hadn't cried in years – not since her parents told her she was to marry Rodolphus.

What would she do? Her husband was dead, her child was dead. Bellatrix still had the Dark Lord and for that she was thankful, but... Bellatrix choked back a sob and wiped her eyes on her sleeve.

Bellatrix stood, and retrieved her wand from the floor. She put Henry back into his crib and started to leave the nursery, but hesitated. She drew her wand and muttered a quick spell that would preserve the body of Henry for three days. She then left the nursery.

She went into the kitchen and called out to the house elves that she wanted breakfast. The Lestranges had four house-elves, but their names always escaped Bellatrix.

"Yes, mistress," they said. They scrambled over each other to prepare a dish of food for Bellatrix. She sat at the kitchen table, something she never did as she always ate in the dining room.

They gave her a plate of food and a glass of pumpkin juice, always jittering and nervous around her.

One of them, a male, who was the boldest of them all, said, "What of Master Henry, mistress?"

"Oh," said Bellatrix. "Yes, prepare something for him. He is ill and will not eat much."

"Yes, mistress," they murmured and hurried off to get Henry something that he would never eat.

One of them started to exit the kitchen with the food, but Bellatrix jumped up. "Did I tell you that you could bring Henry his food? No!" The house-elf squeaked in alarm and almost dropped the plate. "Set it down here, I shall bring it up myself," ordered Bellatrix.

"Yes, mistress," the house-elf blubbered, quickly setting the plate down and wringing her hands.

"Get back to work," she snapped. Immediately, the house-elves scurried away, casting terrified glances behind them as they went.

When Bellatrix finished her breakfast, she picked up the Henry's plate and stood. She carried it up to the nursery and stopped in the doorway. The house-elf who had wanted to bring Henry his food was humming to herself as she cleaned up the room.

Bellatrix dropped the plate of food. It shattered on the ground. The house-elf jumped in alarm and turned around.

"Mistress, is everything all right?"

Bellatrix didn't answer, just drew her wand. She flicked it behind her and the door slammed shut.

"Mistress?"

"Did I give you permission to enter this room, elf?" demanded Bellatrix, her voice soft and deadly. Her black eyes quickly scanned the room and saw that the house-elf hadn't reached Henry's crib to start changing the sheets yet. She didn't know that Henry was ... but still – the house-elf would be punished for disobeying Bellatrix. "Did I?"

"I was just cleaning up, Miss Bellatrix. It's part of my job –"

"Answer the question," Bellatrix hissed. "Did I give you permission to enter this room today?"

"N-no, Miss Bella –"

"THEN WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN HERE?" shrieked Bellatrix. "YOU HAVE DISOBEYED ME, ELF!"

"No!" shouted the house-elf. "No, mistress, I haven't! I was just cleaning –"

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!_" screamed Bellatrix, aiming her wand at the house-elf.

A flash of green light filled the room and the house-elf's scream was cut off short. She fell to the ground, unmoving.

Bellatrix was shaking, she was so angry. She went over to house-elf's body and picked her up. She strode to the door and dropped the body outside. The other three elves had gathered and were huddling together, their large eyes wide with fright.

"Dispose of it," Bellatrix hissed. Then she slammed the door shut.

Alone in the room, Bellatrix sunk down to the floor. She crawled to the crib and peered through the bars at the unmoving form of her son. "It's all right, Henry, it's all right," she whispered. "Mummy's here – I'll protect you."

* * *

A/N: Yay! First chapter done! This one was nice and long and I don't know if I'll be able to keep all of them this long (this was 23 pages on Word), but I'll try not to do super short ones.

So ... how about a review? Please? Pretty please with a cherry on top?


	2. Hallowe'en

A/N: Here's the next chapter, everyone! Thanks for all the reviews, alerts and faves that this got! It really means a lot, but be sure to review to let me know what you think!

Oh and a quick note: Longbottom family is also in hiding and their Secret Keeper is named Diana Robbins.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to the wonderful JK Rowling.

**Chapter Two – Hallowe'en**

October 30th was a cool day and the clouds threatened to let loose a rainstorm at any moment. As such, there weren't many people out on the streets, save for a few little children playing and Bellatrix Lestrange.

Bellatrix had spent the whole morning shut up in Henry's nursery, allowing no one to enter. When her Dark Mark had burned, Bellatrix immediately left the house, locking the door to Henry's nursery with a powerful charm so that the house-elves wouldn't enter and starting _cleaning._

As she strode into the street, she saw the three house-elves huddled around a fresh plot of dirt in the backyard. One of them was sobbing loudly. When Bellatrix passed, they all looked up at her with looks of terror and the crying one fell silent.

Bellatrix hurried past them, her hood pulled up and over her face. She was going to Disapparate to Riddle Manor, but she had to get away from the wards around her house first. When she did, she Apparated and landed smoothly down the street from Riddle Manor, with the smallest of _pop_s.

The three guard Death Eaters, who were different from yesterday, just waved her through, not even bothering to check her Mark. Even though only people bearing the Dark Mark, or those that Voldemort had personally allowed to enter, they were being very careless just letting Bellatrix enter without even checking her. Bellatrix decided she would speak to the Dark Lord about them.

The door to Voldemort's receiving room was wide open, but Bellatrix didn't hesitate as she marched in and past the dais. She pressed the opening stone to the meeting room and entered.

Voldemort was sitting at the table, with no papers in front of him this time. He was sitting with five other people – Snape, Peter Pettigrew, Bellatrix's brother-in-law Rabastan Lestrange, her other brother-in-law Lucius, and a small woman who looked like a squirrel. She looked odd, as if something wasn't quite right with her. There were also three masked Death Eaters were standing against the walls, watching the woman.

"Welcome, Bellatrix," said Voldemort, gesturing to her that she should take the seat next to him.

Once Bellatrix had sat down, Voldemort said, "I believe that introductions are in order – Bellatrix, you know Severus and Wormtail but I would like you to meet Diana Robbins."

Bellatrix nodded at the woman and Diana waved back. Surprised at her oddity, Bellatrix looked to the Dark Lord in question.

"She is the Longbottoms' Secret Keeper," explained Voldemort. "We captured her just a few hours ago and she has been Imperiused into telling me where the Longbottoms are hidden."

Oh, thought Bellatrix. That made sense; at least Bellatrix thought it did. Maybe it didn't, but Bellatrix's mind had been so badly fractured by the loss of Henry that she couldn't tell what was right and what was wrong anymore. Not that she'd been so great at that to begin with.

As Bellatrix's mind continued to whirl around and just make her more confused, Voldemort was saying, "Dolohov; I have no further use of Robbins. Dispose of her."

One of the masked Death Eaters nodded and jerked his head at his fellow Death Eaters. They each grabbed an arm and pulled her from the room.

Bellatrix watched the woman leave, not even struggling against her captors. Voldemort had flicked the door open for them and once they were through, he shut it with another flick of his wand.

Rabastan, Lucius and Voldemort were discussing something, but Bellatrix couldn't focus on their words.

She kept thinking of Henry ... poor Henry. He was all alone in the Manor – not even a bottle in case he got hungry.

"Bellatrix?" said Rabastan. "What do you think?"

Bellatrix blinked. "What do I – I'm sorry, what was the question?"

Rabastan and Lucius exchanged glances. "The Dark Lord does not wish to have any Death Eaters accompany him to kill Longbottom, but perhaps you do?"

Did she?

"Uh, no," said Bellatrix, shaking her head slightly. "I don't need any." Odd, thought Bellatrix, she couldn't focus today.

Voldemort leaned forward in his chair and grabbed Bellatrix's chin with his hand. He turned her head sharply so he could stare into her eyes. Bellatrix could use Occlumency, but she wasn't strong in it when she hadn't practiced for a few weeks. Nonetheless, she threw up a mind shield, blocking Voldemort from her thoughts.

"What is troubling you, Bellatrix?" he asked quietly.

"Nothing, my lord," lied Bellatrix.

Voldemort didn't look convinced, but he dropped her chin and leaned back. "Take Rabastan and Lucius with you, Bella. They won't interfere with you – they will stand guard outside."

Bellatrix nodded tightly and though she didn't think that she needed the guards, Voldemort's decision was final.

"Now," said Voldemort, "Wormtail – why don't you tell Bellatrix where the Potters are?"

Pettigrew looked up at the Dark Lord, his watery eyes watering even more. "Well, you see, James, Lily –" Snape flinched at the sound of her name – "... they _trusted_ me –"

"Don't tell me you're having second thoughts?" said Voldemort, laughingly. "There is no backing down from me, Wormtail. Now tell Bellatrix where it is, Wormtail, or I shall I Imperiuse you, just as I did with Robbins?" His red eyes smouldered with annoyance.

Peter gulped. "N-no, my lord." He looked to Bellatrix and took a deep breath. "They are in the village Godric's Hollow – the house at the end of the street, where Godric Gryffindor used to live," he said, very fast.

Bellatrix nodded. She could picture that hamlet in her mind – she'd been on a raid there only a few months ago.

"Now, Wormtail – you are to go to the Potters house this afternoon and tell them that that fool Dumbledore has called a new Order meeting for tomorrow night, something that is so important they cannot miss it. Offer your services as a babysitter. If you have to, Imperiuse them to get them to leave."

"Yes, my lord," said Wormtail.

Voldemort smirked. "Can you handle that, Wormtail? I ask so little of you and yet, you still complain."

"I-I was not c-complaining –"

"You forget, Wormtail," said Voldemort softly. "I can hear your mind."

Wormtail turned scarlet. "Forgive me, my lord, I was just – well, I shall try harder –"

"Get out, Wormtail," Voldemort said suddenly, waving his wand at the door. It swung open and immediately, Pettigrew jumped to his feet and scurried out of the room. He was almost out the door when it swung shut, hitting him on the backside. Peter cried out and the Death Eaters snorted with laughter.

Rabastan, Lucius, Snape and Bellatrix remained at the table as Voldemort stood and started to pace. "Tomorrow, Bellatrix, arrive at the Potters' house at nine pm. Kill the child, cast the Dark Mark and then leave. Return here immediately. We will remain here until news reaches the world of the death of Neville Longbottom and Harry Potter."

* * *

Peter stood outside Godric's Hollow, anxiously wringing his hands. He couldn't believe he'd sold out his best friend to the Dark Lord and that tomorrow baby Harry would be dead.

James and Lily ... oh, what would he tell them? That the Dark Lord had forced it out of him? That he could do nothing to stop it? That he had betrayed them?

He shook his head and tried to put on a brave front. After all, that's what James would want him to do. Be brave.

Peter knocked at the door and a few moments later it was open by a cautious looking Lily. When she saw him, she smiled lightly. "Oh, hello, Peter," she said. "Come on in."

"Thanks," he muttered. He sidestepped Lily and scurried into the living room. James was sitting on the couch, bouncing Harry on his knee.

"Hey, Wormtail," said James, raising a hand in greeting. "What did you want to talk to me and Lily about?" he asked, as Lily came into the living room and sat beside him. Harry started to squirm and James let him go. Harry started to crawl to his favourite toy hippogriff was just in front of where Peter had sat.

Peter gulped, watching Harry. "Um ... well, Dumbledore told me to – to tell you that he's called an Order meeting for tomorrow night. A very important one."

James and Lily exchanged a look. "He did? Why didn't he tell us?"

Peter shrugged. "He told me to tell you because he was really busy today. You-Know-Who is on the move," he said, lying quickly.

Lily looked to James. "Well, you go, James, and I'll stay here with Harry."

"No!" said Peter.

Lily and James looked at Peter, startled. "What?"

"Uh... D-Dumbledore wants both of you to g-go to the m-meeting," said Peter, swallowing hurriedly. "I-I can babysit," he said. "I'm not as important in the Order as you two and so ..." Peter leaned over and plucked up Harry from the floor.

Immediately Harry started to cry.

"I can take care of Harry," said Peter, raising his voice over Harry's screams. "For at least one night."

Lily stood up and walked over to Peter. She took Harry from him and the boy stopped crying.

"I don't know," said Lily, looking anxious. "What do you think, James?"

James was staring at Peter, his hazel eyes narrowed behind his glasses. Peter tried to make his face as impassive as possible. "We'll have to think about it," said James, finally.

Peter nodded tightly. He didn't want to have to use the Imperious Curse for two reasons: one, he was horrible at it and would probably end up Imperiusing himself and two, he would feel like that was another strike against him for betraying his friends.

The doorbell rang, making James and Lily jump.

"I'll get it," said Lily. She passed Harry to James and then headed for the door.

While Lily was gone, James sighed and said, "I'm getting paranoid, Wormtail. Every time the doorbell rings, I jump a foot in the air."

Peter smiled weakly; James had a good reason to be paranoid.

Lily returned with Sirius. "Hey all," he greeted. "How's my little man?" he asked, taking Harry from James.

Harry giggled and pulled hard on Sirius's hair. "Ouch!"

Lily sighed. "You'd think he'd be used to that by now," she said to James and Peter.

James chuckled and Sirius shot Lily a dark look. "You should teach your son some manners," said Sirius, sniffing. He drew his wand and muttered, "_Accio hippogriff toy_."

Harry's little hippogriff flew in Sirius' outstretched hand. Harry stared at it and then looked up at Sirius with big green eyes. "Mine," he said.

Lily gasped and let out a squeal. It was so high pitched that James clamped his hands over his ears. "James! Did you hear that? Harry said 'mine'! He said his first word!"

"I can barely hear anything anymore," grumbled James, shaking his head.

"Go get the camera, James," ordered Lily, her eyes alight. "Harry, say that again."

James rolled his eyes. He pointed his wand at the ceiling and said, "_Accio camera_." The camera came zooming into the room and James caught it expertly.

"I still haven't lost my Quidditch skills," said James, smirking at Sirius.

"Take the picture, James!" Lily snapped.

As James snapped a photo of Harry sitting on Sirius' lap, the horror of what Peter was doing to this family hit him right in the face. He abruptly stood up. "I-I have to go," he muttered, hurriedly exiting the house.

James, Lily and Sirius all exchanged looks. "What's that about?" asked Sirius.

James and Lily shrugged in unison. "He wants us to go to this important Order meeting that Dumbledore called for tomorrow night," Lily informed Sirius. "It's just about Neville and Harry, so I assume it's secret."

Sirius nodded. "Anyways, so what shall we do today? You taking Harry out for trick-or-treating?"

James and Lily just looked at him. Sirius looked bewildered and then hit himself on the head with his hand. "Oh, yeah. Voldemort."

* * *

Bellatrix Apparated outside Lestrange Manor and quickly entered. She called out to the house-elves that she was to have a plate of food left at the nursery door in no less than a half hour.

The house-elves murmured a quick "yes, mistress" and scurried to make her something to eat.

Bellatrix went to the nursery and opened the door. It was exactly as she'd left it. She tiptoed to the crib, and looked in.

Once more, she dissolved into tears and collapsed onto the floor, weeping.

The house-elves left her a plate of food, knocking lightly, but she ignored them. She continued to cry.

After crying for about an hour, she needed a tissue. She rustled around in her cloak's pocket and grasped a piece of paper. She thought it was a tissue, but when she pulled it out, Bellatrix saw that it was the picture of the Potters that the Dark Lord had given her.

She looked at it. The two adults were smiling, holding their child between them. Harry had green eyes and black hair ... black hair, thought Bellatrix. Henry has black hair. Harry Potter had green eyes, but a simple glamour would fix that, she thought.

Henry didn't have to die; she could just give him a new body, the body of Harry Potter, and he would be all better – this illness nothing more than a memory.

Bellatrix's tears dried on her face. Yes, that would work. She didn't have to lose her son to Death – not when there was a perfectly good body, albeit a half blood's body, that she would do a simple spell on and then Henry would be all better, but Harry Potter would still be dead.

The Potters could keep her son's old body – she didn't need that anymore. But, perhaps they suspect that it was not their son that lay dead in front of them ... she would just glamour the old body's eyes green and give the new body black eyes.

What a perfect plan. And so simple.

"Henry," she whispered, putting her fingers through the holes in the crib and caressing his cheek. "Mummy has a present for you. I found you a new body ... you'll be as good as new soon enough, darling ..."

* * *

Hallowe'en morning dawned bright and early on Lestrange Manor. It was a cold, crisp morning and it would be cool tonight.

Bellatrix had it all worked out. Since the Lestranges owned an Invisibility Cloak, she would cover the old body of Henry with it and transfigure it into something she could hold in her pocket. Once she had made the switch, she would hide Henry's new body under the Invisibility Cloak, under the Silence Spell and _Petrificus Totalus. _She planned to wear an extra large robe to fit the small child.

She was ready. She was ready to be a mother again.

Bellatrix had nothing to do that day, after everything was taken care of. She stayed in the nursery all day, sitting by Henry's crib and reading his copy of _Tales of Beedle the Bard_ out loud.

Finally, it was time. Voldemort wanted her to be at Riddle Manor so they could leave at the exact same time. She gathered her cloak and made sure that the Invisibility Cloak was hidden away securely.

She didn't even bother telling the house-elves where she was going. They watched fearfully from the kitchen window as she Apparated away, cloak swirling in the faint wind. They knew something terrible was going to happen tonight – something that would tear a family apart forever.

* * *

Hallowe'en afternoon that year was cool in Godric's Hollow, very cool indeed. It was around three o'clock and the temperature hadn't warmed up at all since Lily had woken up this morning.

It was time to get Harry up from his nap. James, Sirius and Remus were laughing loudly at a story Sirius was telling and so it would be pointless to even ask James to go and get Harry.

As Lily stood, accidently knocked knees with Peter. He was sitting very quietly on the couch, staring at his hands.

"Sorry, Peter," said Lily, as she walked past him.

He jerked suddenly, as if he'd been in a trance. "It's fine," he said, after a few moments.

Lily and James, who'd looked up, exchanged glances. Peter had been acting _so_ odd lately...

When Lily reached Harry's room, Harry was still snoring and sound asleep. "Wake up, Harry," whispered Lily, softly rocking Harry's crib. "It's time to wake up, honey."

Harry just rolled over, sleeping on and totally ignoring his mother.

Lily smiled at Harry. Suddenly, she shivered and rubbed her arms. Something didn't feel right – the air was feeling ominous and heavy today.

"Harry, honey," whispered Lily. "Time to wake up."

Harry's eyes opened slightly. He blinked at his mother and then fell back asleep. Lily sighed. "Harry," she said, smiling softly. She picked up her still sleeping son and carried him to the living room.

"He still sleeping?" asked Sirius, snorting. "Why do babies need so much sleep?

Lily rolled their eyes. "Don't get married, Sirius," she said, passing Harry to James. "Are you two staying for supper?" she asked Remus and Peter.

"What about me?" asked Sirius, pretending to be hurt.

Lily just looked at him. "I know _you'll_ be staying, Sirius. You always do."

Remus stood. "No, thanks Lily. I'd best be getting home now."

"Aw, so soon, Moony?" asked James, frowning over Harry's shoulder.

Remus nodded. "I like to get as much sleep as I can before the full moon – it helps me." He shrugged.

Peter stood nervously. "I-I should be going, too," he said. "I-I'll be back at eight to babysit?"

James and Lily had decided to attend the meeting this evening, under the Polyjuice Potion of course.

James nodded at Peter. "Okay. I'll see you guys out."

James, Remus and Peter left the living room, heading for the door, with James carrying Harry.

Lily looked to Sirius. "Sirius, can you do me a favour?"

"Sure, Lils," said Sirius easily, lounging on the couch.

"Will you come to check up on Peter and Harry tonight? I-I just don't feel right about going to this meeting." She rubbed her arms and looked out the window, to where a storm was gathering to the east.

Sirius looked at Lily. "Sure," he said slowly. "I'll check up on them around nine, nine thirty."

Lily smiled, still looking out the window. "Thanks, Sirius."

* * *

It was about eight ten when Peter arrived at the cottage, looking nervous. Lily and James hadn't drunk their Polyjuice Potion yet – they were waiting until the last moment.

"Now, Peter, Harry's been changed and he's sleeping already," explained Lily, as James helped her with her coat.

Peter nodded.

"We left you some leftovers from dinner," Lily said. "They're in the kitchen."

Peter nodded again.

James and Lily looked to each other. "Well, I guess that's all," said James. "We'll see you around midnight, Peter? The meeting shouldn't run any longer than that."

The Potters departed and Peter was left alone in their cottage. He went upstairs and peered at the sleeping Harry, who had no idea of the horror that was about to happen to him.

Peter went downstairs and pulled a bottle of whiskey from his cloak. He didn't like alcohol much, but tonight he figured it was the only way to get through the next few hours.

* * *

When Bellatrix, Rabastan and Lucius arrived at the Potters house, it was nearing nine o'clock already.

It was a nice house, Bellatrix noted – a small white cottage with red trim and a large veranda.

"Kill the child and leave," said Rabastan to Bellatrix. "The Dark Lord wants us back in Riddle Manor before nine thirty."

Bellatrix nodded absently at Rabastan's words – at this point in time she wasn't much concerned with the Dark Lord. She just wanted her son back.

Lucius and Rabastan stood near the door to the house as Bellatrix entered. She heard Lucius muttering a spell that would make them invisible to Muggles.

As Bellatrix entered the house, Peter Pettigrew was sitting at the dining room table, weeping.

"Oh! You're here!" he said, gulping down his tears with a bottle of whiskey.

She ignored him. "Where is the child, Pettigrew?" asked Bellatrix, already ascending the stairs.

"In his room. T-third door to the left," Pettigrew said, watching Bellatrix go up the stairs with tears in his eyes.

"Good," she said. "Now, get out of here before the Potters return."

Pettigrew nodded weakly and headed for the door, carrying his whiskey bottle, as Bellatrix crept up the stairs and down the hall.

"Bellatrix?" Pettigrew asked from the doorway. "C-could you tell Harry that I-I'm sorry?"

She looked over her shoulder briefly and rolled her eyes. "Get out, Wormtail." She turned back to the staircase and continued climbing.

First door.

Second door.

Third door.

This was it.

* * *

Sirius whistled to himself as he strode down the main street to Godric's Hollow. He was following up on Lily's request for him to check in on Peter and Harry. He didn't know what Lily was so worried about – Peter would never betray them, but he did as she asked.

Sirius was just about to reach the Potters' house when he stopped dead in his tracks. His heart fell to the floor. Invisible to a Muggle, two hooded people stood outside the white cottage with a small man.

Sirius swore later that the floor had fallen away from him. Wormtail was talking to the Death Eaters casually.

The first thought that went through his head was that he was going to kill Wormtail.

Then he thought, Not Harry!

He drew his wand from his cloak and ran towards the house, yelling curses at the Death Eaters and Wormtail. They weren't prepared for him – the taller Death Eater toppled right over as Sirius' "_Stupefy!_" hit him square in the chest.

The other, whose hood had fallen off to reveal Rabastan Lestrange, shot a killing curse at Sirius. He rolled out of the way, just barely dodging the jet of green light.

"Wormtail!" roared Sirius. "You betrayed us! Betrayed James! Lily! Harry! How could you?"

Wormtail shrieked at the sight of Sirius. He was elbowed harshly out of the way by Lestrange. "Move it, Pettigrew," he snarled, shooting another killing curse at Sirius.

Sirius dodged it and shot a curse of his own back at Lestrange. It missed him, but still Lestrange had to twirl out of the way. He lost his footing on the veranda and fell into Lily's prize rose bushes.

Sirius turned back to where Wormtail had been standing, but there was nothing but a pile of clothes and a whiskey bottle.

* * *

The door to Harry Potter's bedroom was partially closed and a warm yellow light shone out of it into the hallway. Bellatrix eased open the door and looked into it.

It was a rather large bedroom, with a crib, changing table, a rocking chair, dresser and a cabinet for toys fitting easily inside. The window was opening and the white curtain was blowing in the breeze.

Bellatrix reached into her pocket and pulled out a Galleon. She placed it on the change table and waved her wand over it, thinking the incantation in her mind. The Galleon grew, changed colour and morphed into the body of Henry.

She picked up her son and walked to the crib. Harry Potter was sleeping in it, snoring softly. But, as if he sensed a presence in his room, he opened his eyes.

Bellatrix couldn't help but gasp at the sight of the beautiful emerald. Bellatrix felt a shiver of panic crawl up her spine. Would this work? Harry had _such_ green eyes but ... the two children did look eerily alike, now that Bellatrix saw them side by side. They both had thin faces, black hair and both had obvious intelligence. Of course it would work. The only difference between the bodies was that Henry was older than Harry by about a month, but Henry had always been small and looked like the age Harry was now. If she glamoured Henry's new body for a few months and always kept his eyes under a tight glamour, no one would be the wiser.

Bellatrix placed the old body of Henry into the crib, just beside the other child. Bellatrix was calm and collected as she opened Henry's eyes and muttered a powerful glamour spell. The beautiful black dissolved in a puddle and turned into emerald green. The glamour would hold for at least a week – the spell was something that Bellatrix herself had invented while still at Hogwarts. She quickly copied every part of the new body onto Henry's old body, so that the two boys, for a few minutes, looked like identical twins.

Harry looked at the dead boy and started to cry. "Shush," snapped Bellatrix. She lifted Harry easily out of the crib and looked at him. Harry stopped crying and looked at Bellatrix through tear filled green eyes. "Henry, this is your new body," whispered Bellatrix. "Don't worry, darling. You'll get used to it soon – I know this must be a terrible shock for you."

The baby's upper lip started to tremble. He started to wail, kick and scream. Bellatrix was prepared for this. She drew her wand and murmured, "_Silencio._" He fell silent, but he continued to struggle against her. "_Petrificus Totalus_!"

He froze, one leg still in a kick out at Bellatrix. She eased it back in place and murmured the same glamour spell she did over Henry over Harry.

When Henry's eyes melted from green and froze into the black, even Bellatrix was a bit shocked at how much he looked like Henry.

Though Henry's eyes were no longer emerald, the black still spoke volumes. He was terrified, horrified and he wanted his mother.

"I am your mother," said Bellatrix. "You are Henry Lestrange and I am your mother."

* * *

No, thought Sirius. Wormtail couldn't have escaped. He was about to change into Padfoot and race after that traitor when Lestrange jumped out of the bushes, scratches all over his face.

"You'll pay for that one, Black!" he shouted. He sent a fire curse straight at Sirius who just barely avoided it; it burnt the edges of his robes.

"Bellatrix!" shouted Lestrange. "We have company. Kill the child and get out!"

"No!" roared Sirius. As he sent a curse at Lestrange, he thought: Bellatrix? She was the one sent to murder Harry? Why didn't Voldemort – no, no time to think of that now. Must. Save. Harry.

* * *

Bellatrix heard Rabastan's shout from outside. She quickly threw the Invisibility Cloak over her son.

She paused. Could he breathe under there? She pulled it off again and pressed her wand to his face. She muttered a charm and instantly a bubble popped up around Henry's face and then she threw the Cloak back over him

She quickly stowed the invisible child in her cloak, attaching him to her robes with a sticking charm. Now – what could she kill to make the green light appear?

Bellatrix heard a meow from the door. A tabby cat had peered in. Thinking quick, Bellatrix aimed her wand at the cat and shouted, for effect, "_Avada Kedavra_!"

The flash of green light illuminated the room and the cat dropped dead. Bellatrix cast one final look at the old body of Henry in the crib and departed.

* * *

"_Avada –_" started Lestrange, but Sirius shot a tongue tangling jinx at him, cutting off the rest of the killing curse.

Above them, in the window that led to Harry's room, a green light flared.

Sirius thought time had stopped. No, he though. No. No. Not Harry. Harry couldn't be _dead._

Rabastan took the moment Sirius was distracted to untangle his tongue and shot an "Enervate" spell at his fellow Death Eater.

"Harry!" screamed Sirius, dodging a curse. All he felt was pure anger, disbelief and horror.

"It is done!" shrieked Bellatrix, from the veranda. She looked mad, but triumphant.

"Finally!" shouted Lucius Malfoy, the other Death Eater. He had risen and was looking livid, blond hair stuck all over his face.

"_Morsmordre_!" Malfoy screamed, pointing his wand into the sky. A skull erupted into the sky. It hovered above the Potters' house and a snake slithered out of the skull's mouth.

After the Dark Mark had been cast, Lucius Apparated away immediately, followed by Lestrange, who had shot one final killing curse at Sirius but missed.

Sirius, who had never used an Unforgivable Curse before, shot one at Bellatrix standing on the veranda. Bellatrix ducked and the green jet of light hit the door frame, scorching it.

Even though Bellatrix was focused on getting away from here as fast as possible, she smirked at the sight of her cousin as she got to her feet.

"You're too late, coz," she cooed. "The deed is done."

Sirius let out a roar that didn't even sound human. He shot another killing curse at Bellatrix, but she just winked at him and Disapparated.

* * *

James and Lily had arrived at the Hog's Head around eight thirty. Frank Longbottom, who James recognised even with his disguise, had been there since eight. He was alone and explained that Alice had decided to stay home with Neville that evening – something that made Lily wish she had too.

James looked at his watch. It was now 8:44. "This is odd," he muttered to Lily and Frank."Dumbledore is never late."

Frank and Lily nodded.

After another half hour of waiting, Frank stood up. "You know what; I'm beginning to think there was never a meeting."

James and Lily exchanged horrified looks. "What makes you say that?" asked James.

Frank shrugged. "Gut intuition," he said. He lifted a hand in farewell and left the pub.

James and Lily looked at each other and mutually decided to leave. They both stood and exited the pub, Apparating away.

* * *

Sirius stood where he was for a long time, panting, not believing what had happened.

Finally, his legs started to work again and he ran into the house, kicking aside Wormtail's clothing and whiskey bottle. He burst into Harry's room. It was exactly as it had been the last time Sirius had been there, except for the fact that the cat was lying on the floor dead. Bellatrix must've killed that too, he thought faintly.

Sirius could see a small body in the crib and he didn't want to go any further. He stumbled out of the room and down the stairs.

He collapsed on the outside porch and started to cry.

Harry, his little man, was dead, dead because Wormtail had betrayed them all. If only Sirius had been the Secret Keeper...

He was still crying when a few minutes later a hand roughly shook him. "Sirius, Sirius," said James, looking horrified. "What's happened? Where's Harry? WHAT HAPPENED?"

Sirius could barely form a sentence, but he managed to say, "Betrayed. Death Eaters. Harry –" his voice broke.

Lily looked up to the house, which had the Dark Mark still hovering over it and started to scream. She was still screaming when she collapsed onto the ground. She just lay there, sobbing Harry's name over and over again.

James hadn't moved. He was frozen. All of a sudden, a crack of thunder sounded, echoing spookily around them. Within moments, it had begun to rain and James, Lily and Sirius were soaked to the skin, but none of them even noticed.

James sprang into motion. He ran into the house and up to Harry's room. He tripped over something in the doorway and fell down.

Praying it wasn't Harry, James looked up to see the cat lying dead on the floor. James looked up and saw a small figure in the crib. Choking back a sob at what he was going to see, James started to crawl towards the crib and when he peered inside, he felt as if the world had ended. He collapsed and everything went black.

* * *

When Bellatrix's feet slammed into the ground outside Riddle Manor, she did so triumphantly. She had completed her task.

Bellatrix had a private room at Riddle Manor, something that Voldemort had granted to his entire inner circle.

She hurried there, telling Rabastan and Lucius that she had to use the loo. When she arrived, she removed all the spells she'd placed on Henry, for that was Harry's new name, except the glamour, of course.

The baby looked up at her and started to cry. Bellatrix's cheekbone twitched. She was getting annoyed with Henry's constant crying. "_Silencio_," she said, recasting the silencing charm.

The sounds of Henry's tears stopped, but they still ran down his little cheeks. Bellatrix transfigured the bed into a crib and placed Henry in it. "Go to sleep, Henry," she said. "Mummy will be back soon."

On the dresser in Bellatrix's room there was a black marble Pensieve. She pointed her wand at her temple and drew the memory of Henry's death and switching him with Harry out of her mind and into the marble dish. It swirled in there, amongst other things she did not wish to remember.

"Have a good sleep, Henry," she said, fastening her cloak again. Henry looked up at her and was still staring at her with huge black orbs when she left the room.

Bellatrix hurried down to the Dark Lord's private chambers. Lucius and Rabastan were outside the door to the receiving chamber, talking in low voices.

"What is it?" asked Bellatrix, when she joined them. "Where is the Dark Lord?"

Rabastan looked up at Bellatrix. "He has not returned yet."

Lucius drew his wand and summoned three chairs. "Shall we sit and wait for him?"

The three Death Eaters nodded and sat down on the chairs. After an hour, in which Bellatrix slowly began to panic, the Dark Lord finally arrived. He looked furious.

"My lord!" said Bellatrix, rushing to him. He threw up a shield and Bellatrix hit an invisible wall. Bellatrix stumbled backwards and Rabastan caught her. He set her on her feet and looked to the Dark Lord.

"What happened, my lord?" asked Rabastan calmly.

Voldemort shook his head. "Go," said Voldemort. "When I am ready for you, the Dark Mark will burn." He stood in front of the door and immediately it slithered open for him. He entered the room and the door was just about to close when he said, "Harry Potter is dead, Bellatrix?"

Bellatrix nodded.

Voldemort nodded and waved his arm and the door shut with a snap.

* * *

James opened his eyes to a bright white light. He thought he was dead, but then a shadow crossed the light and a woman's voice spoke.

"Are you awake, Mr Potter?" asked the voice.

"Y-yes," said James hoarsely. "W-where am I?"

"St Mungo's, sir," said the Healer.

St Mungo's? What was he doing here? James tried to sit up and the owner of the voice helped him sit up.

He could barely see, as his glasses had been taken off. "W-what happened?" asked James.

The Healer didn't reply. "Here are your glasses, Mr Potter. If you need anything, just press the purple button behind you." James shoved his glasses onto his face. He saw Lily sitting in the chair across from his bed, looking at the floor with an expressionless face, a newspaper on her lap. Her hair was a mess, matted with mud and tangles. Her clothing looked odd – like something someone had just lent her from a lost-and-found bin.

Sirius and Remus were both standing against the wall. Sirius was looking out the window, his hair just as filthy as Lily's, but Remus was talking to the Healer, looking the calmest of all of them. "He should be able to go home tomorrow," she was saying.

Remus nodded. "Thank you," he murmured.

The Healer paused. "I-I'm sorry for your loss."

All of a sudden, the horror of Hallowe'en returned to James. He choked on a sob, making Sirius look at him with dead eyes.

Remus glanced at James, but then nodded again at the Healer. His eyes filled with tears. "Thank you," he said again. The Healer smiled sadly and then left the room.

Once she was gone, Remus looked at James. "How are you, Prongs?" he asked softly.

James laughed dryly. "How am I supposed to be, Moony?" he asked. He swung his legs out of the bed and went over to Lily. "Lily?" he asked softly.

She didn't react, just continued to stare at the floor. James looked at the newspaper in her lap. He eased it away from her and thought he was going to be sick.

A HALLOWE'EN HORROR: MURDER IN GODRIC'S HOLLOW

Underneath the caption was a picture of their cottage in Godric's Hollow – Aurors swarming the area, Sirius sitting on the steps beside an Auror that James recognized but couldn't name, Lily being helped up from the ground by a few Aurors and the Dark Mark hovering above it all.

"Don't read it," said Lily suddenly. She raised her eyes up from the floor. The beautiful emerald was dull and lifeless. "Don't read it, James."

James looked at her and threw the paper down. He didn't want to read it – he'd lived it. He collapsed into the chair next to Lily.

"H-how did they find out where we were?" asked James, after sitting in silence for a long time.

"Wormtail," said Sirius, his eyes flashing with hatred and betrayal. "I was walking up to the house, to check on Harry and him, when I saw that _bastard_ talking with the Death Eaters! He betrayed us." Sirius stopped talking and stifled a sob. He shook his head and continued, "I shouldn't have talked you into making him Secret Keeper. I should –"

"It isn't your fault, Sirius," said Lily. "Don't blame yourself." She looked over at James. "When I find that _rat_ –" Lily spat the word with such venom that James flinched – "I'm going to hurt him so bad that he will regret ever being born." She hiccupped, and dissolved into tears again. James wrapped his arms around her.

While Lily sobbed into his shoulder, James asked, "What have they done with – with –"

"He's downstairs," said Remus. "They won't do anything with him until you give the okay."

James nodded slowly. Suddenly, he remembered the 'Order meeting' that had so obviously been a trick. He stood up, so unexpectedly that Lily almost fell right over.

"Where's Dumbledore?" James demanded.

Remus and Sirius shook their heads sadly. "We've not seen him," said Remus, sitting down in James' vacated chair. Lily immediately started to sob on his shoulder, thinking he was James.

Just then, the door to the hospital room swung open, revealing Albus Dumbledore. He looked just as majestic at that moment as he always had.

He strode into the room, shutting the door quickly behind him.

"Dumbledore," said James, sounding relieved. Then he turned furious. "You called that Order meeting –"

"No, James, I did not," said Dumbledore, looking sad. "Lord Voldemort fabricated that, making sure that your Secret Keeper and the Longbottoms' Secret Keeper would tell you, ensuring that you four attended the meeting."

James gasped. "Frank and Alice! Did – did Voldemort get N-Neville –?"

"No," said Dumbledore, smiling sadly. "Voldemort planned to kill both Harry and Neville on the same night, ensuring that the prophecy would not come true –"

"How do you know this?" asked James, accusingly.

Dumbledore looked tired all of a sudden. "Just as Voldemort has spies amongst us, we have spies among him. He told me this. Except, Voldemort's plan didn't work quite as well as he wished it too."

James, Remus and Sirius all looked at each other. "What do you mean?" Remus asked.

"Voldemort did not know a very important thing about the Longbottoms' Secret Keeper. Diana Robbins is a highly trained witch, one amongst very few who are able to escape the effects of the Imperious Curse. Voldemort had her under it and tried to make her reveal the hiding place of Frank, Alice and Neville. She did reveal a hiding place – her own house. She was killed tonight, along with her husband, Marcus."

Lily, who was still sobbing, but listening as well, gasped and looked up at Dumbledore. "She's dead? But – oh, but Diana!"

Dumbledore nodded sadly. "Diana and Marcus Robbins sacrificed themselves so that there is a chance that the Dark Lord will be defeated."

Lily stood up, brushing her tears away. "So, they're all safe? Alice, Frank and Neville?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes. Perfectly well – though they do wish to see you, Lily. And you too, James."

James nodded dumbly. "Later – later, Dumbledore."

He bowed his head. "Of course. If there is anything I can do, please do not hesitate to call." He smiled sadly at the Potters, Remus and Sirius and then left.

The moment he was gone, Lily turned to James. "Oh, James," she said, before starting to cry again.

James wrapped his arms around her. He knew exactly what she was thinking – why did Wormtail do this to them?

* * *

A/N: Please review! Next chapter should be up soon!

Another note: (This one was originally at the beginning, but it's better down here) - Bellatrix was never truly sane and she has completely gone round the bend with the death of Henry and when she has switched Harry with Henry, Harry is now Henry Lestrange to her and that's how I refer to him when it's from her perspective.

Please review!


	3. Henry Lestrange

A/N: Yay! Chapter three! So, for the next few chapters it will be about a year in the lives of our characters – just to keep the story moving. Oh and note – isn't it convenient that Harry is a nickname for Henry? ;)

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to the wonderful JK Rowling.

**Chapter Three – Henry Lestrange**

The funeral of Harry Potter was crowded, full of people Harry had never met and would never meet. There was Dedalus Diggle, holding his violet top hat in one hand, the other with a tissue to his eyes; Frank and Alice Longbottom, who'd left Neville with his grandmother, looking miserable; and a redheaded mother and father, with a gaggle of redheaded children.

Lily and James had opted for a closed casket; they didn't want to see their baby child in a coffin. They sat in the front row, in between Sirius and Remus. Lily barely heard anything the presiding priest was saying, as she was sobbing into James' cloak the whole time.

She did catch the priest saying, "Let us not forget, that even though Harry is no longer with us, and even though we feel nothing but pain now, we must hold onto the fact that the fifteen months we had with him were a blessing."

The crowd murmured an agreement, but Lily couldn't have disagreed more. To just have fifteen months and then have that snatched away from you was not a blessing – it was a curse.

The chapel was silent for a few minutes while people sobbed and prayed. "And now," said the priest, "The service has ended. The family has asked me to thank you all for your support at this time and go in peace." He nodded his head at the crowd and immediately people were standing up to leave. James and Lily had allowed the funeral to be public, but the small ceremony at the cemetery would be open only to close friends and family.

Lily had told Petunia what had happened and, even though Petunia and her weren't on good speaking terms, Petunia had shown up. She didn't have her son or husband, but the fact that she was there made Lily feel a little better.

Petunia came up beside Lily and James as Sirius and Remus stepped forward to be the pallbearers. Usually _Wingardium Leviosa_ is used to lift the casket, but Lily didn't want that for Harry. Remus and Frank had volunteered to carry his casket.

Lily turned away from the sight, looking down at the floor as Petunia guided her out.

"It'll be all right, Lily," she whispered, rubbing circles into Lily's back.

"What makes you say that?" asked Lily harshly.

Petunia didn't answer, just patted Lily on the shoulder and walked away. "Oh, Tuney," said Lily. "I didn't mean it –"

"Lily," said James, coming up from behind her. His voice was hoarse and his eyes red from crying. "Let's go – Sirius and Remus are outside with – with Harry."

Lily almost collapsed all over again. Even the mention of his name and she was a sobbing wreck. She nodded numbly and followed James out of the chapel. Most of the people had left, being directed by Aurors the Ministry had sent for the occasion.

A small crowd, including the priest, Frank, Alice, Remus, Sirius, Sirius' girlfriend, Ophelia, who'd returned from a her job abroad for the funeral, Petunia, Dumbledore and Rubeus Hagrid, were standing around a small grave, each clutching a flower. Lily had invited her old friend Severus, but he'd never gotten back to her about coming.

"I-I can't do this," murmured Lily, coming to a shaky stop beside James. "I just can't, James."

"I'll be right here beside you, Lily," he said, smiling sadly at her.

Lily took a deep breath and stepped forward, not ready to see her baby lowered into the ground, not ready to say goodbye forever.

The priest waited patiently for Lily and James to join the group. Ophelia handed Lily a flower. She looked at it – it was a white lily.

Then she saw the casket. She'd avoided looking at it for the whole funeral. Just picking it out had been enough. The priest said something, but Lily didn't hear him. All she could see was the casket that held her son.

Everyone murmured something and tossed their flowers onto the small coffin, everyone except Lily. People started to turn away, some crying softly, some wailing up a storm like Hagrid – who had only met Harry twice.

Frank and Alice murmured a goodbye to Lily, but Lily barely felt Alice's hug. She couldn't help it – she felt frustrated that Alice still had her son, safe and sound, when hers was six feet under. They quickly left, accompanied by several Aurors. Now that Neville was the only child left who the prophecy could mean, they were under constant surveillance.

Even though Alice's hug had been soft, Lily definitely felt Hagrid's hug. He squeezed her so tight that for a few seconds, she couldn't breathe. Hagrid then left, still sobbing loudly, with Dumbledore, who himself had said almost nothing to Lily and James, looking miserable and very, very old.

Ophelia, who was such a dear, offered to Apparate Petunia home. Petunia looked terrified, but, after a few minutes of coaxing, agreed.

Sirius and Remus hung back, thanking the priest. James bent down, near the casket and put his hand on it. He didn't say anything and after a few minutes, turned away.

Lily was left alone by the grave. "Goodbye, Harry," whispered Lily, placing down the lily she was carrying with shaking hands. "Goodbye."

* * *

_10 years later_

Every year, before the beginning of the school year, Dumbledore received a list. He didn't know who sent it; he assumed it was something the school did itself. It always appeared on his desk, on July 7th.

It was a list of all the students who would be entering next year as first years. It was a list that had been created, with names added, as children were born. It was the Headmaster's responsibility to cross off names of students who were going to attend different schools or those who had died as children.

He looked it over, his half-moon glasses sitting precariously on the tip of his nose. Each year had about four or five who weren't going to attend Hogwarts, and this year was no different.

Dumbledore sighed and looked over the list. He crossed off two names in quick succession, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. Both their mothers had written saying that their sons weren't attending the school. Although their letters had been rather rude, insulting Dumbledore's intelligence, they were rather tame in comparison to a few others, including one from a Sally-Anne Perks. Her mother had sent hers in undiluted Butotuber pus and Dumbledore's pinky had been swollen for days.

Henry Lestrange – Bellatrix herself had sent Dumbledore a Howler, informing him that "THE VERMIN YOU CALL TEACHERS SHAN'T TEACH MY SON MAGIC!"

Draco Malfoy, for who Dumbledore had received another Howler from Bellatrix: this time was she was screaming that "MY NEPHEW SHAN'T LEARN FROM MUGGLE AND MUDBLOOD LOVERS!"

Dumbledore had no doubt that Bellatrix's decision there had been influenced by Voldemort. What had he called it? Oh yes: 'A joke of a school, taught by the Muggle loving fool Dumbledore.' Voldemort had probably worded it a little more harshly, though, thought Dumbledore with dry amusement. Voldemort's opinion of Hogwarts was so much more different than what Tom Riddle had thought of the place – a home away from home.

Continuing on, Dumbledore paused, his quill hovering over the next name. Harry Potter.

He sighed loudly, setting the quill down and removing his glasses.

Harry Potter. The boy who was supposed to save them all. Of course, people still had hope that Neville Longbottom would be the child prophesized about, but Dumbledore had a suspicion that it had been Harry, not Neville.

He thought about the night Harry had been murdered. Sirius Black had reported that Bellatrix Lestrange had been the one to murder him, not Voldemort as Dumbledore would've expected.

Lily and James had never gotten over Harry's death. They put on a brave face, as only eight months after Harry's death, Lily had given birth to another child, a son they named Jason.

Jason Potter had no idea that he used to have an older brother; Lily and James had kept the fact that his own brother had been murdered on orders of Voldemort hidden. They didn't want to scare him.

Jason Potter had just turned ten and he would be starting school in a few years time, two years after his brother was supposed to begin.

Dumbledore sighed again. He picked up the quill and crossed Harry Potter off the list.

* * *

"No, that's wrong," hissed a blond haired boy. "A knight moves in an 'L' shape, not a zigzag!"

"Who says?" retorted a black haired boy, crossing his arms across his chest and shooting the blond boy a glare.

"Uh, the rules of chess!" said the blond boy, throwing his arms up in the air as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"He's right, you know," said the white knight, from the board, looking up at the black haired boy. "The bishop is the one that moves in a zigzag."

"Oh shut up," said the black haired boy, flicking the knight over. It let out a squeal, knocking into the black king. The king lost its' balance and toppled over.

"Aha!" said the black haired boy, standing up in triumph. "Your king fell over, Draco! I win!"

"What?" roared Draco. "No fair! Rematch!"

The black haired boy grinned. "Naw. I won, fair and square."

Draco looked furious. He jumped to his feet. "You did not! That's called cheating," he shouted.

The black haired boy shrugged. "I still won."

Draco's face turned beet red in anger. The black haired boy laughed and his laughter rang out around him, making a very cool echoing sound. He and Draco exchanged looks and both started to holler at the top of their lungs. The sound echoed throughout the whole room, making their yells amplified.

"They can probably hear us outside!" Draco shouted.

"Not yet! Yell louder!"

Suddenly, the door to the room opened and a very angry looking Bellatrix Lestrange was revealed.

"Henry!" shrieked Bellatrix. "Draco! What on earth are you two _doing_?"

Instantly, the two boys stopped hollering. "Ah, Auntie," said Draco, grinning sheepishly, "We're just playing!"

"This is the Dark Lord's private meeting room," hissed Bellatrix, sounding livid. She drew her wand and said, "_Levicorpus!" _

The two boys were instantly pulled into the air by the left ankle. "Hey!" they both cried out.

Bellatrix ignored their cries. "You should be thankful that it was I who discovered you, not the Dark Lord!" she said, directing the two boys out of the room with her wand.

"Our chess set!"

Bellatrix growled. "_Accio chess set_!" The pieces all flew at Bellatrix, not in an orderly fashion either. She shrieked and ducked to the ground. They all flew past her and struck the wall. The two boys' loud shouts of laughter echoed throughout the room. Bellatrix looked furious. She jerked her wand and the two boys tumbled to the ground, cutting short their fun.

They groaned and moaned as they untangled themselves from each other. "Pick those up," Bellatrix ordered. "And be quick about it."

As they started to pick up the pieces, who were also moaning and groaning after hitting the wall – one of the pawns was missing its top – Draco muttered, "That was so worth it, Harry."

The black haired boy grinned as he bent over to pick up a white knight. His proper name was Henry, but when they were younger Draco had the hardest time trying to pronounce Henry and so Draco's mother, Narcissa, had suggested Draco call Henry Harry, which was a nickname for Henry. As they grew up, Draco only referred to Henry as Henry when they were around Henry's mother, Bellatrix. Bellatrix, for some reason, couldn't stand to hear her son called Harry. Only Narcissa also called Henry Harry, his uncles Lucius and Rabastan did not. Henry himself referred to himself, in his mind, as Harry. He thought it suited him better than Henry.

Once they'd gathered the pieces, Bellatrix whipped a strong wind at them that shoved them from the room. They were pushed by the wind across the Dark Lord's receiving chamber and out into the hallway. There Bellatrix cancelled the spell, leaving the two boys with very windblown hair.

"Now, get out of here. If I catch you anywhere near here again, you'll be very sorry," she threatened. They nodded and ran off.

The Dark Lord's chamber was in the basement and the boys ran all the way up to the third floor and into Harry's room. Since Bellatrix spent so much time at Riddle Manor, the Dark Lord had given Harry his own room at the Manor, mostly to keep him out of the way. It was one of the smallest there, with only a bed, a desk and a dresser. He did have a window seat, on which Draco usually bunked when the Malfoys stayed over at the Manor.

Harry shut the door behind Draco and both boys collapsed onto the bed, laughing hysterically. And I mean laughter: this was the knee slapping kind. "Oh, Merlin, that was good," said Draco, panting from the run and laughing so hard. "Did you see Auntie Bella's _face_?"

"How could I miss it?" he said. "It is kind of big."

Draco snorted with laughter and almost choked. While he was gagging, Harry started to laugh harder. After a few minutes of this, they were both red in the face and panting. "Come on," said Harry, jumping up. "Let's go see if Uncle Lucius is back yet – he said he'd bring us a treat."

The two boys ran downstairs, throughout the corridors and long hallways that filled Riddle Manor. They had investigated the whole house when they were younger, but every so often they would get completely lost. Once, they even ran into the Dark Lord. He had been very distracted and barely even noticed them, but still for two seven years olds running into the most dangerous wizard of all time it was a very frightening experience.

They were just about to run down the last flight of stairs when the front door to the Manor burst open and a whole swarm of Death Eaters entered. Harry and Draco ducked, keeping hidden. Not all the Death Eaters were happy that the Dark Lord allowed the two boys to run around Riddle Manor.

The Death Eaters were talking loudly and laughing. Obviously, the raid on Diagon Alley had been successful. Several were still wearing masks, but most had removed them.

"Look," whispered Harry, pointing to a long blond haired man. "There's Uncle Lucius. Come on; let's go see what he brought us."

The two boys crept along the rail and hurried down the stairs. "Hey, Uncle Lucius!" shouted out Harry.

Lucius jumped and whirled around, his wand out. When he saw it was his son and nephew, he relaxed. "Don't sneak up on me," he snapped.

"Sorry," said Harry, not sorry at all.

Lucius took off his black leather gloves and walked towards the Death Eater lounge, with Harry and Draco trailing him. "What do you two want?" he asked, pausing outside the door.

"You said you'd bring us a treat," said Draco. "Did you?"

"Oh, yes, I did say that, didn't I?" he said. He reached into his cloak pocket and pulled out two very small broomsticks. He waved his wand over them and they grew into two large broomsticks.

"That's –" began Draco, his grey eyes lighting up.

"A Nimbus Two Thousand," breathed Harry. He looked up at Lucius with glittering black eyes. "Where did you get those?"

Lucius shrugged. "Quality Quidditch Supplies," he said. "It was part of the raid and I snapped these up for you before I left." He handed each of the boys a broomstick.

The two boys looked at their new brooms, with lit up faces. "Thanks!" they both said, grinning. They started to run away, but Lucius grabbed each of them by an ear and pulled them back.

"Now," began Lucius, over the boys' protests. "Don't go flying these outside Riddle Manor – you'll be shot down by the guarding Death Eaters. I've called Narcissa – she's coming to get you two later. You can fly all you want around our house, okay?"

They both nodded and pulled out of Lucius' grasp. "Thank you!" they both hollered again, running off.

Lucius shook his head and chuckled with amusement as the two boys raced outside, ignoring his warnings about being shot down.

* * *

"Ready, Dad?" shouted a little black haired boy named Jason Potter. He was hovering, very unsteadily on a broomstick, just above the ground.

"Ready, Jason!" shouted back James, the boy's father. He was also hovering on a broomstick, but had much better balance than his son.

The little boy threw a football sized Quaffle at James, who had to dive for it, but caught it nonetheless. "Good one!" James shouted. "You ready?"

Jason nodded, his face screwed up in concentration. "Throw it, Dad." James tossed it gently towards Jason, who shot out like a bullet for the ball. He completely missed it and tumbled off his broom and into the tall grass, letting out a very girlish scream as he did so.

"Jason, Jason, are you all right?" asked James anxiously. He had flown over immediately and jumped off his broom.

Jason was staring up at the sky, flat on his back with a foolish grin on his face. "Let's do it again!" he said, sitting up.

"Jason?" called out Lily, standing on the back porch and holding a cup of tea. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah!" he said, jumping to his feet. "That was brilliant!"

James looked over to Lily, who was looking just as anxious as James felt. "You be careful, Jason!" she shouted.

"I will, Mum! Don't worry so much!" called out Jason, laughing as he mounted his broom. "Come on, Dad!"

James looked to his son. "I'll be there in a minute, Jace," he said. "I'm just going to talk to Mum for a minute." He mounted his broom and flew over to the porch where Lily was standing. "Hey, Lils," he said, grinning at her. "Why don't you grab your broom and join us?"

She rolled her eyes. "Don't even try, James," she said, poking him in the ribs. "Listen, dinner will be ready in a few minutes, so start winding Jason down, all right? Remember the last time he was so wired at supper –"

"Yes, yes, the milk jug," said James impatiently. "I know." He flew off, rejoining his son in the sky.

Lily watched them for a few minutes before returning inside to the kitchen. She was making fried chicken wings, something that the boys really enjoyed. As she was getting out plates, she was absently thinking if Harry would've like chicken wings.

It had been ten years since Harry's death – his eleventh birthday was coming up on July 31st. Lily's hands shook as she set the table. He would have been starting Hogwarts in September; she wondered if he'd have been in Gryffindor.

Suddenly, interrupting her thoughts, Jason and James came blundering into the kitchen, laughing. "Mum, Mum, did you see me? Did you see that trick I did?" asked Jason, excitedly.

"No, I didn't, honey. What was it?" asked Lily, turning away so that her son wouldn't see the tears in her eyes.

"Well, Dad threw the Quaffle at me and I dived for it, but missed it. So I was getting higher and higher and then – the Quaffle landed right in my lap! I must've misjudged it, but I still got it!"

"Good job, Jason!" said Lily. "You'll be a great Quidditch player one day. Here, go put these forks out for me."

As Jason finished setting the table, Lily murmured to James, "You shouldn't have tricked him, James. What did you do, levitate the Quaffle into his lap?"

James looked at her with innocent eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, sniffing. Lily rolled her eyes.

As she watched Jason setting the table, with a silly grin on his face, Lily couldn't help but think of how similar he had looked when he was a baby to Harry. She presumed that Harry probably would have looked something like Jason – except for the fact that Harry had been very similar to James except with green eyes, whereas Jason was much more a carbon copy of James. He had James' black hair and his hazel eyes – he even wore glasses like James. Lily wondered if Harry would have ever needed glasses.

As Lily, James and Jason started to eat, Jason began telling Lily the story of the 'amazing Quaffle save' again. As he retold it for the third time, Lily couldn't help but wonder if Harry would've liked flying as much as Jason did...

* * *

"You're doing it wrong, Draco!" yelled Harry, laughing.

Harry and Draco had ignored Lucius' warning about being shot down in the sky and were currently flying their new brooms in the back garden of Riddle Manor. It wasn't very well kept; ivy had grown up all over the stone benches and the grass ran wild.

"This is so frustrating!" said Draco, who, albeit a good flyer, wasn't as good as Harry.

"You just need more practice," said Harry, who couldn't help but grin at his cousin's struggle. "Come on, follow my lead."

Harry flew up higher, with Draco following him.

"Harry," shouted Draco, after they'd flown around for a bit, playing tag, "We should've brought a ball with us!"

Harry frowned; Draco was right. He spotted a rather large pinecone in a tree and flew dangerously close to its branches. He tugged the pinecone free and held it up so Draco could see.

"What about this?" he asked.

Draco shrugged. "We can try," he said.

Harry passed it to Draco, who cried out when he caught it.

"Oh, don't be such a wimp," said Harry, laughing. "It's just a pinecone."

"A _prickly_ pinecone," retorted Draco, lugging it back at Harry.

Harry caught it and called out, "Let's see how many times we can pass it back and forth before we drop it!"

"One!"

"Two!"

"Three!"

"Four!"

They had made it all the way to sixteen when Draco missed it, after a pathetic throw from Harry. "Draco!" Harry shouted, just as Draco said sarcastically, "Oh, nice throw, Lestrange!"

The pinecone was plummeting to the ground and heading straight for a strolling Death Eater. "If that hits him," said Draco, paling, "he'll kill us."

Without another word, Harry dove for the pinecone, cutting his face on the trees' branches that he flew past at a fast speed. He winced at the burning pain, but ignored it.

He dodged an outstretched branch and urged the broom faster. "Come on, come on!" he muttered, stretching out his arm for the pinecone. It was just about to hit the Death Eater straight on the head when Harry snatched it up, pulling out of a spectacular dive at the last moment.

The Death Eater kept on whistling, not noticing anything at all.

When Harry had rejoined Draco at the top of the trees, Draco was looking thunder struck. "Why didn't you tell me you were so good?" he demanded.

Harry laughed, and tossed the pinecone to his cousin. "It's really not that hard, Draco."

Draco snorted. "If I tried that, I'd have crashed straight into the Death Eater."

Harry grinned. He could see it now – Draco, flying his hardest for the pinecone and succeeding in getting it, but then crashing into the Death Eater.

There was a sudden shout from below. Harry glanced down and saw a different Death Eater with brown hair staring up at them. He didn't look very friendly.

Harry and Draco exchanged an exasperated glance. "Brilliant," muttered Draco, tossing the pinecone to Harry.

"You two morons!" shouted the Death Eater, as Harry and Draco started to descend. "What the hell do you think you're doing, flying around out here when anyone could see you? Don't you know that the Dark Lord himself has strictly forbidden flying around in Riddle Manor skies?"

"No, we didn't know that," said Harry, crossing his arms across his chest. He had jumped off his broom and was clutching it to his chest, lest the Death Eater decide to take it away.

The Death Eater narrowed his eyes at Harry. "I know you," he said, taking a step towards Harry, who, in turn, stepped back. "You're Bellatrix Lestrange's son, aren't you?"

Harry stared at him coldly. "I am. What's it to you?"

Draco had to muffle a snort at Harry's rudeness. The Death Eater shot a dark glare at Draco before turning his narrowed eyes back to Harry. Suddenly, he reached out and grabbed Harry's shoulder and Draco's arm.

"_Ouch_!Let go of me!" said Harry, trying to wrench away from the Death Eater. But, he was strong and his grip didn't even budge.

"Let's go tell your dear mummy what you two were up to – she'll be most pleased," he said nastily. He started to drag the two boys up to the back entrance of Riddle Manor.

Draco paled at the thought of an angry Bellatrix, but Harry just rolled his eyes. They stumbled along behind the Death Eater, clutching their broomsticks.

Apparently, this Death Eater didn't know Riddle Manor as well as he thought he did – he was heading for the door that led to the Dark Lord's private potions and spell room. Draco and Harry exchanged glances, but didn't say anything. Because the Death Eater was holding Draco with one hand and Harry with the other, he kicked at the door, but it refused to budge.

"Come on, you mother effing door!" grunted the Death Eater. He started to kick at it more and then finally whipped out his wand, shoving Draco into Harry so that he could hold both boys with one hand. He was about to perform a spell, but suddenly the door opened to reveal a livid looking Lord Voldemort.

* * *

"Mum," said Neville Longbottom, clutching his mother's hand as they walked down the streets of Diagon Alley, "What happened to all the stores?"

Alice looked nervously around and pulled Neville along faster. "There was a raid today, honey."

In fact, Death Eaters had only just left the area functioning, but Ministry officials had closed down the alley only for two hours to assess damage and collect the dead before re-opening the stores. Life had to go on.

"A raid?" repeated Neville, his face serious. He hadn't celebrated his eleventh birthday yet but he had so much resting on his shoulders.

Alice nodded tightly, sidestepping a huge pile of wood on the ground.

"Was it by the Death Eaters?" asked Neville, looking up into the sky for the Dark Mark.

Alice, too, glanced up. "Yes; but, they'll have gotten rid of the Mark by now," she added. "Don't want that hovering around to long – especially this close to Muggle London."

Neville nodded and looked back down. "Why do they do this?" he asked, as they walked past a witch waving her wand and repairing the broken sign in front of her store.

Alice sighed. "They're bad people, Neville. This is their idea of fun."

He looked around him with big eyes. "This is not funny," he said, looking angry, "This is cruel."

"You're right, Neville," said Alice, ushering Neville ahead of her into a potions store. "This is nothing but cruelty."

* * *

Bellatrix was furious. Henry and Draco were nowhere to be seen; they'd disappeared after she'd chased them off from the Dark Lord's meeting room.

Narcissa had Floo-called and told Bellatrix that she'd be arriving momentarily to take the Draco home for dinner and asked if Henry had wanted to come as well. Since Bellatrix was scheduled to be in a meeting with several Inner Circle Death Eaters and the Dark Lord all night, she agreed and even suggested that Henry stay overnight.

Bellatrix had decided to have the two boys ready for Narcissa when she arrived, but the trouble was _she couldn't find them_.

She'd searched the Dark Lord's meeting room and receiving room again, but there was no sign of the boys. With each passing moment, Bellatrix was getting angrier and angrier. When she found them, they would have hell to pay for making her so furious.

* * *

Harry felt his stomach drop – they were in deep trouble now.

"M-my lord," stammered the big Death Eater. He instantly let go of Harry and Draco, who stumbled into each other. "I-I'm sorry – I didn't know this was your –"

Voldemort held up a hand for silence. "Is that how you always enter rooms, Rosier?" he asked softly. "By kicking down the doors?"

Rosier blushed. "I'm – I'm sorry, my lord."

Voldemort rolled his eyes. "Why should I forgive you, Rosier?" he said, his voice as soft and deadly as a viper. Behind him, Harry could see Nagini, Voldemort's pet, slithering about. "It seems that these two boys are the ones who you need to beg for forgiveness."

Rosier looked down at Harry and Draco. "My lord?" he questioned.

"You were grabbing them rather roughly," said Voldemort, chuckling. "What did they do to you – drop a pinecone on your head?"

Harry's and Draco's mouths fell open, while Rosier just looked bewildered. How did Voldemort know about that?

Voldemort turned to the two boys, smirking at their thoughts. "I saw you," the Dark Lord said, addressing Harry. "I was looking out the window – wondering if there would be a storm tonight – when I saw you two passing around a pinecone." He walked over to the window and peered out. "Good save by the way, Henry," he added absently.

"T-thank you," said Harry, totally stunned that the Dark Lord himself was complementing him. Draco was looking at Harry with awe and jealousy.

Voldemort paused, running a long white finger along his chin thoughtfully. "Yes, I think it will rain this evening."

"My lord," began Rosier, determined to get Harry and Draco in trouble, "they were flying around in Riddle Manor skies."

Voldemort looked at Rosier, blinking. "I believe I just said I saw them. Do you have something in your ears, Rosier?"

Rosier flushed again, while Harry and Draco smirked.

"My lord, what I meant was," said Rosier, "They were flying around, specifically breaking your rules!"

"I am aware of what they have done, Rosier," said Voldemort sharply. "I do not need you telling me." He paused and then smirked. "No, I will not punish them, Rosier. Bellatrix is looking for the boys – her anger will be punishment enough." He turned to Harry and Draco. "Your mother is looking for you, Henry. _Your_ mother, Draco, has arrived to get you two and both sisters aren't pleased at being kept waiting. Run along now."

"Yes, my lord," the boys murmured. They turned and ran out the door that led to the garden again.

"Now, Rosier," Voldemort was saying, "About kicking in my door like that... I think a quick dose of the Cruciatus Curse will teach you to mind your manners."

Harry and Draco hurried away from the room; they ran to the other entrance with the sounds of Rosier's shrieks.

When they re-entered Riddle Manor, Harry immediately burst out, "Did you hear him? The Dark Lord complimented me! Me!" Harry was delighted, but Draco looked annoyed.

"It's not that big of a deal," he muttered.

"Are you kidding, Draco?" said Harry, laughing. "The Dark Lord himself said I had talent!"

Draco snorted. "He didn't say that. He said you made a great save – there's a difference. Besides, it was probably just luck."

Harry shook his head vehemently. "No, it wasn't."

Draco rolled his eyes, looking sullen. "He didn't say anything about _me_," he muttered darkly.

* * *

Narcissa and Bellatrix had split up to find the two boys about twenty minutes ago and Narcissa was having no luck whatsoever. She had searched Harry's room, the unused ballroom that they often hid in, walked through the fourth and third floors and still nothing.

She and Bellatrix had agreed to rendezvous in the main foyer after thirty minutes of searching. Narcissa decided to head there early, just in case Bellatrix had found them.

She was walking down the last flight of stairs when she heard Bellatrix's shrill voice condemning the two boys to hell. She looked over the rail and saw Bellatrix holding a blond haired boy and a black haired boy by the ear. They were each clutching a new broom and Narcissa instantly suspected that they'd been out flying in restricted skies.

"Ouch! Let go!" they were complaining, trying to squirm out of her reach.

Narcissa hurried down the rest of the stairs and hurried over to her sister. When Narcissa had joined Bellatrix, Bellatrix let go of the boys' ears.

"Where have you two _been_?" Bellatrix demanded. "We've been looking all over for you! And where did you get those brooms?"

Harry and Draco looked at each other. "Father gave them to us," said Draco, when it was apparent that Harry wasn't going to speak. "He got them from the raid at Diagon Alley."

"Were you flying them outside?" hissed Bellatrix. "_You know that is strictly forbidden_!"

"Well, _now_ we do," said Harry, shooting a look to Draco. Draco shook his head wearily.

* * *

The meeting for the Death Eaters was supposed to have been about a new way to infiltrate the Ministry – the last attempt had been such a horrible fail that some Death Eaters still walked with a limp from the punishment the Dark Lord had given them.

But, something new had come up and taken precedence. Some members of the Order of the Phoenix had foolishly decided to set fire to a house that had been home to a great deal of the Dark Lord's personal belongings – after all, Voldemort had at least three mansions that he called home.

This house had been a personal favourite of Bellatrix's, but Voldemort did not often use it as it was in the middle of London, near the Ministry. It was in a good location, used when the Death Eaters needed a place to quickly hide from Aurors or the Order.

Although the Dark Lord did not like it there, it was still his and anybody that had destroyed what belonged to the Dark Lord would be punished. Severely.

The Death Eaters were all quiet, awaiting the wrath of the Dark Lord. Their earlier success in raiding Diagon Alley had been overlooked by this new event.

When he arrived, he was more than angry. He had his wand already drawn and pointed at the Death Eaters. "Travers," he said, "Where were you last night?"

Travers, a Death Eater who was usually very arrogant and rude, gulped. "I–"

"Apparently not guarding my London home," hissed Voldemort. "For it has been destroyed. Destroyed by the Order of the Phoenix!"

No one said a word; no one even dared to breathe. Voldemort twirled his wand between his fingers, glaring up at the ceiling with angry eyes. "Stand."

Everyone looked at each other nervously. Who did he mean? "Travers, I said stand," said Voldemort. "Over by the wall."

When Travers had taken his place beside the wall, Voldemort turned his eyes to him and pointed his wand at the man's chest. He started to sweat heavily.

"Please, my lord –"

"You have failed me, Travers," said Voldemort's high cold voice. "Lord Voldemort asks so _little_ of you, his loyal followers, and _yet _... you still fail him. _Avada Kedavra_!"

A blazing green light filled the room and Travers crumbled to the floor as it struck him in the chest.

"Dinner, Nagini," said Voldemort, softly, some of his anger gone. Not a Death Eater moved as Nagini, Voldemort's pet, slithered to the man's dead body.

"Let this be a lesson to you, Death Eaters," said Voldemort, as if he had not just tortured and then killed someone. "If you fail Lord Voldemort as Travers did, you will be punished."

He let them all sit in silence for a few minutes; only the sounds of Nagini eating could be heard.

"Kill the one who did this," he said suddenly. "Burn his house, as he did to mine, and then bring him to me. I will kill him personally."

* * *

A/N: The end of another chapter... but just think of it! It means I'm working on the next one already! So, to keep me motivated ... how about a review? Yeah, yeah? And, I just want to make sure everyone knows Jason is 2 years younger than Harry, just so we're all clear.


	4. Fire

A/N: Yay! 31 reviews and almost 80 people have this on alert! Thanks so much, everyone, you have no idea how much this means to me! I'm sorry about the slow update, but I have school now and it's so hard to find time to write, but I try my hardest!

Congrats to all those who guessed right! Oh and one person is totally random so if you get the others you're good to go! You'll find out who gets a cookie at the end!

And just a little warning, this chapter has a lot of the other characters and not so much of Harry, but he is still in here though, don't worry. The reason is that it's essential to the plot, but next chapter has a bunch of our dear hero so don't fret!

Sorry about the long note, everyone! But, I do want to say that there's an **important** author note at the **end** of this chapter so make sure you read it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to the wonderful JK Rowling. The Sorting Hat Song used is from _Harry Potter and the Philospher's Stone_ although I have added a verse to it (and ffnet is being dumb and won't let me centre that verse properly so it's all on one line!) And, the poem on the headstone isn't written by me, but for the life of me I can't remember who the author is!

**Chapter Four – Fire**

"No!" screamed hoarsely a man with sandy hair, who had his wrists chained against a stone wall. "Please –"

"Silence, Dearborn," said a lazy voice that echoed from the centre of the room where a tall, pale man with red eyes sat, absently reading a peice of parchment and ignoring the man's screams. "Lucius, I believe our guest needs another dose of the Cruciatus."

"No!" screamed Dearborn. "No, please –"

"_Cruico_!" said Lucius loudly, over Dearborn's screams.

When the Cruciatus Curse reached the man, he screamed and thrashed against the wall. He hit his head violently against the stone, creating little droplets of blood that stained the stone.

"Please! Please, it's wasn't my idea, I swear –"

Voldemort motioned to Lucius to stop and he did so. When the spell was lifted, Dearborn coughed brutally and spat up some blood.

Ignoring the man, Voldemort magically summoned a quill and wrote something on the piece of parchment. Finally, he said, his voice soft and emotionless, "Tell me whose idea it was and perhaps I shall spare your life."

A few of the Death Eaters exchanged glances, but didn't say anything. Dearborn looked up at the Dark Lord, the tears in his eyes whether from relief or the pain you couldn't tell. "Oh, _thank _–"

Voldemort flicked his wand and the man jerked in pain. "Whose idea was it?" asked Voldemort flatly; he had no time to waste with scum like this.

Dearborn gulped. "You – you have to understand ... he would have fired me from the A-Auror office if I hadn't –"

Sighing loudly and sounding very annoyed, Voldemort nodded at Lucius who once more placed Dearborn under the Cruciatus. Even through his screams, he managed to choke out, "It – it was Mad Eye. Mad Eye Moody. He made me –"

"Moody?" said Voldemort, his voice soft and thoughtful. At Voldemort's indication, Lucius raised the Cruciatus and the man sagged against his chains, tears rolling down his face.

"Please, please –"

"You have been very useful, Dearborn. Lord Voldemort thanks you." He motioned to two of the Death Eaters standing behind him. "Take him to the basement and lock him up," ordered Voldemort. They nodded and one waved his wand the man's chains. They unravelled from his wrists but before the man could even move, the two had grabbed him and dragged him from the room. Lucius followed them out, his wand pointed at the man's back as he was dragged.

Once they were gone, Voldemort motioned to the other Death Eaters in the room. "Burn Moody's house down," he ordered. "Do not kill him, but bring him to me."

* * *

It was the first of September and the busiest day of the year at King's Cross. There were always a lot of odd people on September 1st, but the staff had come to accept them. Most were rather nice and polite, but some were downright rude and condescending, using the oddest words to describe them – Muggle, was it? And, then there were the really strange ones, and not just cloak wearing strange.

"Platform 9 ¾?" asked a security guard angrily, having been asked this question for the fourth time this morning. "There isn't one!"

But, he was wrong. Platform 9 ¾ was located between Platform 9 and 10, and was where the Hogwarts Express loaded students each September and unloaded them again in June.

Platform 9 ¾ was busy, crowded with people of all ages. It was almost eleven o'clock and the last minute students were hurrying onto the train.

Neville Longbottom kissed his mother's cheek and hugged his father before jumping onto the Hogwarts Express. He hurried down the hallway and found an empty compartment. He stashed his trunk above the seat (it almost fell on his head the first time, but he managed to store it safely eventually.)

He leaned out the window, waving down the platform to where his parents were standing. "Bye, Mum!"

They walked over to his window, trailed by a few non-descript Aurors. "Bye, Neville! Write us as soon as you're settled," called Alice, waving as the scarlet steam engine let out a whistle to alert the travelers to its impending departure.

He nodded. Suddenly, there was the sound of the compartment door opening and so Neville ducked his head back into the train. "Oh," said a very flustered looking red haired boy. "Sorry – I thought this compartment was empty." He turned to go, but stopped when Neville spoke up.

"That's all right," said Neville. "You can stay here if you wish."

"Yeah?" asked the boy, grinning slightly. "All right," he said, heaving his heavy trunk onto a rack above Neville's head.

"I'm Ron, by the way," introduced the redheaded boy, putting out his hand so Neville could shake it. "Ron Weasley."

"Neville Longbottom," greeted Neville.

There was no flicker of recognition in Ron's eyes; after all, the prophecy was a closely guarded secret – even Neville didn't know why Aurors followed him and his family around.

After a few moments of awkward conversation, Ron headed off to see where his brothers were and Neville looked out of the window again. The platform was now full of waving parents and younger siblings who looked sad to not be on the train this year. Alice and Frank were still there, talking and laughing with someone else's parents. Neville felt a pang – he would miss them.

The train's whistle blew again, almost scaring Neville out of his wits. Alice and Frank looked around at Neville's yell of panic and waved goodbye cheerily when they saw that he was safe. "Goodbye!" said Frank, waving at his son. "We'll see you at Christmas!"

Neville called back, but his voice was lost as the train blew its whistle once more and started from the station. He waved again, but lost sight of his parents as the train rounded the corner.

* * *

_Three masked men wearing black cloaks with the hoods pulled up over their faces appeared on a street in the dead of night. They would blend into the shadows except that they each wore a white mask that resembled a skull._

"_Which one is it, Lestrange?" asked the tallest of the three with a deep gravelly voice._

_The one in the middle raised one finger in the air. He paused and then pointed at a house at the end of the street. It wasn't any different from the others, but it did have a very odd garbage bin that's top seemed to be spinning over and over again. "There," said Rabastan Lestrange. _

_The three men pointed their wands at the house and started to walk towards it, as silent as cats. _

"_Dolohov, Gibbon," said Rabastan, motioning to the other two men. "As soon as the fire is set, we cast the Dark Mark and leave, understood?"_

_The other two men nodded._

"_Stand back," warned Dolohov. "_Fiendfyre_!" he shouted and fire erupted from his wand. It exploded at the house: dragons, Chimaeras and every other imaginable fire related beasts attacked Moody's house, making it burst into flames._

_Immediately, alarms sounded everywhere on Moody's property; he had obviously been expecting Death Eaters to show up. Unfortunately for him, the Death Eaters weren't planning to capture him on this mission – it was to burn his house down._

_The fire had only been roaring for about thirty seconds when the house's main support beam collapsed, falling into the house next door. The fire dragons jumped onto the beam and spread to the Muggle house next door. _

"_Let's go!" shouted Gibbon, pointing his wand into the sky and screaming, "_Morsmordre_!" _

_A green skull erupted into the sky, but from the black bellowing smoke it was hard to see it. Gibbon, Dolohov and Rabastan all Apparated and the scene faded away..._

Lord Voldemort emerged from the Pensieve, a pleased smile on his face. Rabastan Lestrange was kneeling in front of him; it was his memory that Voldemort had been watching.

The Dark Lord strolled over to where Nagini had been dozing. "Very well done, Rabastan," said Voldemort, stroking the snake. "Now, just find Moody and bring him to me. He can join his little friend."

Voldemort jerked his head to the wall where Caradoc Dearborn was still chained. The man was unconscious and drooling slightly.

Voldemort twitched his hand at Dearborn and the man woke up with a sudden scream. Voldemort raised his wand and was about to utter the Killing Curse when Dearborn shouted again. "You – you said you'd spare me!"

"I lied," said Voldemort smoothly. "_Avada _–"

"No! Please wait!" panted Dearborn. He looked torn and disoriented, but kept talking. "It wasn't just me and Moody – Sirius Black helped us! Sirius Black!"

Voldemort paused. "Sirius Black?"

"Yes," said Dearborn, looking a bit relieved. "H-he helped us – even bragged about it afterwards."

Voldemort walked towards the man. The man's head was forced back by an invisible force and Voldemort looked into his eyes. He was telling the truth – Voldemort smirked. "Thank you, Dearborn," said Voldemort, kicking away the man as he walked by him. "You have been very useful to Lord Voldemort and Lord Voldemort thanks you. Now ..." he fingered his wand and pointed it at Dearborn, who began to sweat and beg.

"Please –"

Voldemort smirked at the man's pleas; he was immune to begging. "_Avada__Kedavra_!"

The green light filled the room and Dearborn slumped over as he was hit. He fell as far as the chains would let him and he moved no longer.

* * *

TEN HOMES DESTROYED BY DESTRUCTIVE, MAGICAL FIRE

_By Gretel Hertz_

_In what is believed to be a seemingly random act of terror by the Death Eaters, ten homes were burned down last evening, by the aide of Fifrendyre, a spell that creates uncontrollable fire, a known favourite of several Death Eaters. _

_Of the ten houses, nine belonged to Muggles but the tenth, which is believed to have been the targeted house, belonged to Alastor "Mad Eye" Moody. He was not home at the time of the attack, but most of the Muggles were and five of them were killed, including one child..._

Lily sighed and put the paper down. It was from this morning, but the fire had been last night. The Muggles put it down to arson, but Lily knew that it had been an act of revenge from the Death Eaters. Moody had acted recklessly, burning down Voldemort's London home without even consulting the rest of the Order; he was lucky to still be alive.

Of course, Moody hadn't acted alone. A rather foolish, new member of the Order named Caradoc Dearborn had also helped – his family had just been tortured and his father murdered by Voldemort himself.

Moody and Dearborn had approached James about their plan, but he had been smart enough to refuse.

However, Sirius hadn't been so wise. Sirius had aided them, furious at Lord Voldemort. Lily suspected that when Moody and Dearborn approached him with the idea, he would've done it anyways – revenge for Harry, but he had just found out that Ophelia, his wife (they'd married when Jason was five) had been a Death Eater for several years, spying secretly on the Order. When Sirius had found out about her, he had completely lost it, almost killing Ophelia in his rage. She had Disapparated before he could do any lasting damage to her and hadn't been heard from since. Setting fire to Voldemort's London home was the closest thing Sirius could get to actually taking a swipe at Voldemort himself.

When Harry had died, Sirius had been beside himself – he felt it was all his fault. No matter how many times he was told that it was Wormtail's, it had always been his fault for not being the Secret Keeper; Sirius had suffered through the death of Harry as much as James and Lily.

The reason that Remus was the godfather of Jason, and not Sirius, was because James and Lily didn't know what it would do to Sirius if something happened to Jason, too. They didn't like to even think that thought, but in times of war – and their first child murdered – they had to be practical.

And, when Ophelia was revealed to be working for the _monster_ who had done this to Harry and everyone who loved him, Sirius had lost it even more. He had blown up their house, almost killing the pair of them and almost earning him a few months in Azkaban for the damage that was caused.

Lily shook her head angrily and clenched her fists. She had trusted Ophelia, but then again, she'd also trusted Peter. Although she was very worried that Voldemort knew that Sirius had burned down his house, she was also furious with him.

Sirius was a fool, a _fool_ to think that he would escape Voldemort's notice! He had been so totally reckless, acting out of pure rage and the feeling of betrayal that he had acted without even thinking. Dearborn hadn't been heard from in weeks – most likely captured and killed by Voldemort. Lily suspected that he had sold out Moody, and most probably Sirius as well.

Sirius had been very pleased with himself afterwards, but ever since the attack on Moody and Dearborn, Sirius had stopped bragging and now didn't even mention that he had been involved, but Lily was sure that someone knew he had helped them.

She took a long drink of tea and tapped her fingers on the table. She was at a loss of what to do – she'd distracted herself all day, but was now running out of things to do.

Remus had taken Jason out to a Quidditch game (England vs Russia) leaving James and Lily alone. They needed to be alone for this day: September 1st , the day that Harry would've been starting Hogwarts.

James had gone outside the moment Remus and Jason had left, shooting Quaffles; he did this whenever he was upset or wanted to be alone.

Lily had watched him for a while, read all the other old papers that lay around the house, reorganized the kitchen cupboards, and cleaned Jason's room twice. Now, she was out of her mind with trying not to think of Harry and the fact that he should be sitting on the Hogwarts Express, heading to school instead of lying in the cold ground.

Do not think like that, she thought angrily, shaking her head to clear her thoughts.

Finally, Lily couldn't deny what she really wanted anymore – to go to the cemetery and see Harry.

"James," she called out through the open kitchen window, making James stop shooting Quaffles for a moment. "I'm – I'm going to the cemetery."

He looked up at her, his eyes sad. "I'm coming, too. Just give me a minute."

Lily nodded. She smiled sadly and closed the window with a wave of her wand. Quickly fastening her cloak around her for it was surprisingly cool for the beginning of September, Lily sat on the sofa and waited for James to get ready. He appeared a few moments later, wearing a Muggle jacket. They walked to the edge of the wards on the house and hurried down the lane to where the cemetery was, grasping hands tightly.

Taking a deep breath to ready herself, Lily pushed open the small gate and she and James entered the cemetery. To their immense surprise, they weren't the only ones visiting Harry.

Sirius was standing in front of the white marble headstone, staring down at it with bottomless eyes.

James and Lily walked along the headstones and mausoleums in silence until they reached Harry's grave. Sirius didn't even acknowledge their presence.

Lily and James went there every year on his birthday, every Hallowe'en and sometimes a few times during the year, when Jason was occupied with other things.

_Harry James Potter, born 31st July, 1980, died 31st October, 1981_

Underneath that was inscribed a small poem that Lily always had loved, but now she started to sob just at the sight of it. James wrapped his arm around her, tears filling his own eyes at the sight.

'_Those we love don't go away;_

_They walk beside us every day;_

_Unseen, unheard, but always near;_

_Still loved, always missed and very dear.'_

Jason had no idea about Harry and Lily and James wanted to keep it that way. How frightening would it be for him to realize that his older brother was murdered on orders of Voldemort and that one of James' best friends had been the one to betray him?

Lily was still crying into James' shoulder when Sirius removed his wand from his pocket and made a bouquet of flowers appear out of the air, wrapped with ribbons the colours of Hogwarts: not just red, yellow, blue and green, but also gold, black, bronze and silver.

"I wonder if he'd have been in Gryffindor," whispered Lily, looking up from James' shoulder at the bouquet. Her eyes lifted to the sky, filled with glittering tears. "They'd just be arriving now," she said. "At Hogwarts."

James smiled sadly, but didn't say anything. He didn't have anything to say.

After they'd been at the grave for about ten minutes, it started to rain. Lily, James and Sirius did nothing to stop themselves from getting soaked, watching the flowers on the grave get splattered with large, wet drops.

"We should get back," James murmured. "Remus and Jason will be home soon."

Lily sniffled and nodded. "All right."

"Coming, Padfoot?" asked James.

Sirius didn't move for a few minutes but then nodded tightly. They turned to go; James picked up a small twig from the ground and muttered a spell. It turned into a black umbrella, which he held over Lily and him as they walked out of the cemetery. Lily looked back once more and saw the lone white headstone gleaming in the rain, a reminder of what could have been and what could never be.

* * *

The Great Hall was loud and full of excited chatter of all the students in second to seventh year, anxiously awaited the Sorting so that they could be served.

The enchanted ceiling revealed a rather cloudy evening, as it had been rainy that day. Every once and a while, the moon would emerge from behind a cloud, shining white, pearly light onto the five tables in the Hall. Four were filled with students, dressed in their traditional black robes with specific ties to the House they belonged and the fifth was where the staff sat, facing their students.

In the centre of the staff table sat Professor Dumbledore, a very wise and old wizard with piercing blue eyes, veiled by half-moon glasses. He was talking jollily, across the empty seat of Professor McGonagall, with Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout, both who were laughing at something Dumbledore had just said.

Next to Dumbledore was Professor Snape, the Potions teacher. He was a swallow looking man, with a hook nose and greasy black hair. He looked distinctly unfriendly.

Suddenly, Professor McGonagall swung open the doors that led to the Entrance Hall. She strode in, and behind her were a trail of scared looking first years. They were also wearing the traditional black and flocked to McGonagall like sheep. She led them up through the gap between the Ravenclaw and the Slytherin tables and told them to stop when they'd reached the front.

In front of them was a wizened old hat, sitting on a little stool. It looked just like a regular hat, only very old and very dirty.

Suddenly, its brim opened and it began to sing, terrifying most of the first years.

'Oh you may not think me pretty,  
But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me.  
You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
And I can cap them all.  
There's nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry  
Set Gryffindor apart;  
You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true  
And unafraid of toil;  
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw  
if you've a ready mind,  
Where those of wit and learning,  
Will always find their kind;  
Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folks use any means  
To achieve their ends.

We've come under threat. Yes, your Houses are of some import's But do not forget: We all attend this noble school of Hogwarts

So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I'm a Thinking Cap!'

When it had finished, and after the thundering applause had died out, Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. "Now," she said, unravelling a long list. "When I call your name, you shall come forward. I will place this hat on your head and you will be sorted."

"Bones, Susan!"

A girl hurried up from the crowd of first years and ran to the hat. It considered for a moment and then shouted, "HUFFLEPUFF!" The table on the far right cheered and clapped Susan on the back as she joined them.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!" The table second from the left clapped and whistled when Terry had stumbled his way to the table, looking relieved.

"Brown, Lavender!"

"GRYFFINDOR!" The table on the far left cheered loudly as the first Gryffindor joined them.

"Bulstrode, Millicent!"

"SLYTHERIN!" The only remaining table cheered as a rather squat girl waddled over to them.

Each house now had one new member, but it wasn't a pattern. "Finch-Fletchly, Justin!" became a Hufflepuff, but Seamus Finnigan became another Gryffindor.

"Granger, Hermione!"

A girl with rather bushy brown hair practically ran up to the hat and jammed it onto her head. It considered for a long time before finally shouting, "GRYFFINDOR!"

After a few more students had been sorted, it was Neville's turn.

"Longbottom, Neville," called Professor McGonagall.

Up at the staff table, Professor Dumbledore watched as the boy who was going to save them all walked nervously up to the hat. It took a good while with him but finally screamed, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Most houses were filling up with new students, but Slytherin House, who seemed rather small to begin with, had few students joining them.

Professor Dumbledore sighed loudly when the Sorting had finished; Slytherin had only gotten a handful of students and he suspected that most of its probable population had decided not to attend the school that year.

As he stood to welcome everyone, he couldn't help but wonder what house Harry Potter would've been in...

* * *

"H-here's your dinner, Master Henry," said a house-elf, bowing nervously as Harry took the plate from the elf. He looked at it and wrinkled his nose, but said nothing.

Harry and Bellatrix were sitting at the dining room table a few seats away from each other. Bellatrix had refused dinner and was poring over some rather recent editions of the _Daily Prophet_, but for what reason Harry wasn't sure. All he knew was that the Dark Lord had asked her to. Her wand was beside a piece of paper within arm's reach, with a quill and ink bottle beside that. Maps were also spread out, as well as a blue print for a large house.

"Are you sure you don't want anything to eat, Miss Bellatrix?" asked the house-elf, standing beside Bellatrix looking terrified.

"Yes," she snapped. She made a shooing motion with her hand and the elf was blasted off his feet and into a cabinet of dishes. Bellatrix didn't even glance up but said, "If one thing in there is broken ..."

"N-no, Miss Bellatrix," gasped the house-elf, sitting up and rubbing his lower back. "N-nothing is broken." He got to his feet shakily and tottered away.

Harry watched the whole scene with silent eyes. He was more polite to the elves, but his mother would blast them out of her way when she was just walking. Bellatrix was aware of Harry's nicer treatment of the elves and it was obvious she disapproved greatly.

Bellatrix glanced up and narrowed her eyes at Harry. "Why aren't you eating?" she barked. She didn't usually speak so harshly to Harry, but she was in particularly nasty mood today.

Harry looked down to his plate. "It doesn't look very good," he admitted.

"Well, then," said Bellatrix, looking back down at her papers. "Tell the elves to prepare you something different then. Or," she said, her lip curling into a smirk, glancing back up again, "go hungry, Henry. I know how you'd hate to _upset_ the elves by telling them their cooking is inadequate."

Harry scowled. He pushed his plate of food away. "I'm going to bed," he announced, standing up to go.

"Sit!" roared Bellatrix, picking up her wand from where it lay on the table and pointing it at Harry, who paused, almost out of his seat.

"What?" snapped Harry, flopping back down and glaring angrily at Bellatrix.

"I did not say you were dismissed!" she said shrilly, still pointing her wand at him. "You are to sit until I tell you that you may leave!"

And so Harry sat, glaring all the while at Bellatrix while his food grew colder and colder and Bellatrix grew more frustrated and frustrated.

Finally, she threw her paper down and glared darkly at the polished wooden table. She tapped her fingers on the table, the black polish on them chipping slightly with her force.

"Can I go now?" asked Harry sullenly.

Bellatrix ignored him. She pointed her wand at the chair next to Harry and shouted, "_Incendio!_"

The chair was instantly ignited and Harry jumped in surprise and fear, toppling his chair over, but thankfully in the other direction, away from the burning chair.

"It doesn't add up!" shrieked Bellatrix, slamming her fist onto the table with a resounding _bang_. "Something else has to have destroyed that building!" She whipped the quill out of the ink, hitting Harry in the face as he got to his feet, white faced, and started to scribble onto a piece of parchment. The fire was still going strong; Harry hurried to the doorway and was staring at the chair. It reflected in his black eyes and he looked very shaken.

Bellatrix finished scribbling and then she pointed her wand at the chair and said, "_Aguamenti_!" It was instantly put out by a stream of water from her wand, leaving behind a small cloud of smoke and the ruined ashes of a chair. She started to write again as if nothing had happened.

"You – you almost got _me_!" said Harry, breathing deeply through his nose; eyes flashing in anger. "With that fire!"

Bellatrix glanced up. "It didn't touch you and was never going to, Henry. Calm down and get back to your seat. You have not been dismissed."

* * *

"You should've seen the way Russia _destroyed_ us, Dad!" cried Jason, laughing excitedly over his plate. "It was a total wipe out!"

"Why are you so pleased England lost?" asked James, through a mouthful of food; Lily shot him a reproachful look.

Jason shrugged. "I'm not pleased, Dad; I'm rather upset actually."

James snorted. "Oh, I can see that," he said sarcastically. "Very tore up."

"No, really," insisted Jason. "It was so _funny_, that's why I'm laughing." He shook his head, still grinning. "Poor England, though. Out for another round."

"Ah, well," said Remus, who had stayed for dinner. "Maybe next year we'll do better, eh Padfoot?"

Sirius, who was not eating very much, said darkly, "There isn't a chance in the world, Remus."

"I don't doubt it," said Lily. She didn't follow Quidditch, but knew enough to confirm that the National team of England was rather pathetic.

After a few minutes of forks clanging and happy eating, Jason asked, innocently, "So what did you guys do today?"

Remus looked up from his plate at Lily and James, his expression clearly waiting for them to respond.

Sirius just looked at Jason, saying nothing. James' face tightened and he muttered something about work.

Lily stood and walked into the living room, hiding her face from view as she did. James waited a few moments and then followed her. Sirius stood abruptly into the silence and muttered a quick excuse about how he had to get back and Disapparated on the spot.

In the now deserted kitchen, Jason looked to Remus, bewildered. "What did I say?"

* * *

Harry and Draco were bored. Bellatrix had dumped Harry off at Malfoy Manor in the dead of night and ran off to Riddle Manor; Voldemort had called a meeting.

Narcissa hadn't been too pleased about it, but she had grudgingly made up Harry's bed in the spare room down the hall from Draco's and ordered him to sleep, promising a quick punishment if he were to cross the hall and wake Draco.

When Narcissa had shut the door to Harry's room firmly behind her, Harry had instantly jumped out of bed and listened at the key hole for any further sounds of his aunt. When it had been clear that all was quiet in Malfoy Manor, he had eased open the door and hurried down the hall to where Draco was snoring.

He had wanted to clang pots together or dump a bucket of water over him to wake him up, but Draco's screams would also alert Narcissa.

So, he had settled for shaking his cousin over and over again.

When Draco had woken up to see his cousin leering over him, he had shrieked, but Harry had thought of that. He had clamped a hand over Draco's mouth before Draco could even muster another sound.

Now, after being awake for about five hours, they were incredibly bored. After they got into an argument over wizard's chess and Harry had accidently blown up one of Draco's bishops by forcibly tapping it with his wand when Draco wasn't looking; they had raided the kitchen, nearly frightening Dobby, the Malfoys' house-elf, out of his wits. Draco had ordered him to keep his mouth shut about seeing the two boys and so Dobby was bound to obey.

Now they were sitting on the stairs that had been used by servants, when the Malfoys had had Muggles as servants, and were bored out of their mind.

Draco had suggested, yawning, that they return to bed, but Harry was more adventurous than that.

"Come on, Draco, think! What else can we do in this huge house of yours?"

"Sleep," he muttered.

Harry sighed loudly. "No, not that! Something else!"

"We've done everything at my house!" said Draco. "Not tonight, but before!" he added, as Harry rolled his eyes. "We've never really gone exploring at your place, Harry."

"That's because my mother would murder us if she caught us snooping around," said Harry matter-of-factly.

"If _my_ mother finds us," said Draco, "She'll kill us too. Remember that time we were in the drawing room –"

Harry winced at the memory and shushed Draco. "Don't even talk about that," he said.

Draco sighed. "Harry, I'm tired. Can't we please go back to sleep? Tomorrow we have to go to Diagon Alley and get wands and then those lessons with my dad and the other Death Eaters..." he trailed off and slumped suddenly over, fast asleep.

Harry sighed. He'd totally forgotten about the lessons. The Dark Lord, who was already preparing the next generation of Death Eaters, had ordered any Death Eaters who had school aged children not to send them to Hogwarts, but rather to educate them at home themselves. Draco and Harry would be learning together, taught by Bellatrix, Lucius, Narcissa and Harry's uncle Rabastan.

Now that he remembered the lessons, his heart plummeted a little. Bellatrix, Narcissa and Lucius had taught them the basis of magic already, when they'd gotten their wands when they were eight. They had had class with them a few times a week but now it was going to be formal – the Dark Lord had even offered them a school room at Riddle Manor since they wouldn't be going to Hogwarts.

When Bellatrix had told him that he wouldn't be attending Hogwarts, Harry had been a little put out, but soon got over it. After all, he was already far ahead of all the students who would've been in his year – already more ahead than most third years.

Draco let out a huge snore, startling Harry so badly that he jumped up and looked around for the sound. He sighed and shook Draco.

"Get up," he said.

Draco muttered something about fighting a dragon and ignored Harry.

"Come on! Wake up! If you don't, I'll just leave you here," Harry threatened.

Draco didn't stir; he just muttered again about a dragon. Harry just shrugged and walked away, leaving Draco slumbering on the stairs.

* * *

Voldemort's private meeting room was full of all the Inner Circle Death Eaters. Amongst them was Lucius Malfoy, sitting and chatting amiably with Antonin Dolohov. An annoyed looking Evan Rosier was tapping the table with his wand, making yellow sparks fly out at a young Barty Crouch Jr. Bellatrix was sitting beside Severus Snape, who was staring gloomily at the table. Bellatrix was anxious for the Dark Lord to arrive and so she wasn't talking to anyone. Neither was Rabastan, who was staring at the table, calmly waiting for the Dark Lord. Crabbe and Goyle, two large Death Eaters that Bellatrix suspected were just there for intimidation, were muttering in low voices about how England had been eliminated early in Quidditch again. Gibbon was standing against the wall, smoking, and talking with Nott. A rather new Death Eater, a woman named Ophelia (Bellatrix didn't know her surname) was also there, looking miserable and lonesome.

The door that led from the meeting room to Voldemort's private chamber slid open. Gibbon quickly muttered a spell and the cigarette disappeared.

"Sit," ordered Voldemort, taking a seat at the head of the table. His face was expressionless, but from his tone of voice the Death Eaters knew he was livid with anger. Those who were standing quickly took their seats and waited for anxiously for Voldemort to begin.

He took his time; he sat at the table for a few minutes tapping his long white fingers on the polished wooden surface and staring up at the ceiling.

"The people responsible for burning down my house have not been punished," he said finally, his voice high and cold. He looked down at the Death Eaters, his eyes flashing in fury.

"My lord," began Dolohov nervously. "We –"

"You brought Caradoc Dearborn to me," said Voldemort, interrupting Dolohov. "And he was punished. You burned down Alastor Moody's house, but you did not bring him to me, as I asked. And, as I have recently learned, it was not just Moody and Dearborn who did this." He looked over to where Bellatrix was sitting and the venom in his gaze terrified her. He then looked to where the new girl, Ophelia, was sitting, making her jump at his gaze.

He abruptly stood and started to pace. "Bellatrix's cousin and our newest member Ophelia's husband, Sirius Black –" he sneered the name – "also set the fire."

Bellatrix's mouth fell open in horror. Her own flesh and blood had had a part in destroying the Dark Lord's home? And even more surprising was that he'd actually gotten married!

She turned to the girl, about to demand why she had married that blood traitor, but she was looking just as aghast as Bellatrix felt.

"Sirius?" she whispered, sounding terrified. "He did this? He b-burned your house? My lord," she hastily added.

Voldemort smirked coldly, and murder flashed in his eyes. "Yes, he did. I believe that he feels it is retribution for what happened to Harry Potter all those years ago." He looked to Bellatrix. "Even though it was not I who murdered him." Ophelia followed his gaze and her eyes narrowed in confusion – she didn't recognise Bellatrix.

"He also blames me for your decision to join me, Ophelia," continued Voldemort. "He seeks revenge, not unlike his family members ... Bellatrix, have you met Ophelia? I suppose you are cousins..."

His voice trailed off, leaving Bellatrix and Ophelia staring at each other and the other Death Eaters watching and waiting for the drama to unfold.

Bellatrix was staring at Ophelia, surprised that Sirius had been able to marry someone, especially someone so pretty. She had dark brown hair and in the light of the room it looked black. She had bright blue eyes that were slowly filling with horror and revulsion. "Y-you're Bellatrix?" whispered Ophelia, her voice constricted with horror. "You – you're the one who killed –" her voice broke and she seemed unable to continue. Bellatrix herself was silent, unsure of what to say.

"Killed Harry Potter?" finished Voldemort, his voice soft and silky. "Yes, Bellatrix killed him. After you married Black, he became your godson, did he not? Well," here Voldemort laughed cruelly, "had he lived."

Ophelia looked like she was about to cry. Bellatrix had a fleeting thought of killing her – after all, she was the wife of the man who had destroyed the Dark Lord's home!

"No, Bella," said Voldemort, looking up at her when he heard her thought. "Do not kill Ophelia because she made an error in marrying Black, but kill Black who made the mistake of angering Lord Voldemort."

* * *

Harry was dreaming about a flying motorcycle when a hand roughly shook him awake. "Harry," snapped Narcissa. "Harry, wake up."

Harry grunted and opened his eyes. "What?"

"Why did I find Draco on the servant stairs this morning?" she asked, clipping his ear and pulling him out of bed.

"Why are you asking me?" asked Harry innocently, slipping away from Narcissa's grip. "He was probably sleep-walking."

"Really? He said that you woke him and convinced him to run around the whole night."

Harry scoffed. "That's not true. It wasn't _all_ my idea."

Narcissa sighed and rolled her eyes. "Get dressed; after breakfast, I'm taking you and Draco to Diagon Alley. Lucius wants you two to have new cauldrons for tomorrow."

That made sense. Lucius always wanted the boys to have new things. "What about Mother?" asked Harry, reaching for his robes. "Isn't she coming too?"

Narcissa paused. "She ... she's going to meet us there."

"Oh," said Harry, his heart sinking. Whenever someone said that, it really meant that Bellatrix was doing something else, most usually for the Dark Lord.

When Narcissa had departed, Harry dressed and tried to flatten his hair. It always stuck up, annoying both Narcissa and Bellatrix to no end. He was staring at his reflection in the mirror when all of a sudden his black eyes flickered and turned into emerald green. It was only for a second before it flickered again and was once more onyx, but it startled Harry. He peered closer to the mirror, but had to decide that it was just a trick of the light.

"That was weird," he muttered as he fastened his cloak and headed down the stairs. He had seen that happen once before, when he was seven. It had unnerved him even then and seeing it twice, in different lighting, was a bit disconcerting.

After he and Draco had downed a quick breakfast, Narcissa hurried them to the fireplace where they would Floo to Diagon Alley.

Harry didn't like Floo much – he always had to sneeze just when he had to get out at the proper gate. Once he had missed it when he and Bellatrix were going to Borgin and Burkes and had ended up in a Muggle coffee shop. That had been quite the incident.

Draco went first, shouting, "Diagon Alley!" before being swept away by the green flames. When he was gone, Harry stepped in, clutching the Floo Powder.

"Diagon Alley!" he shouted and in a _whish_ of green flames he was gone. He was spinning like a top in the emerald flames with hundreds of gates rushing by. He saw Draco's blond hair and stumbled out in the Leaky Cauldron, almost losing his balance. A hand reached out and steadied him before he could fall.

"You all right there?" asked the man. He looked rather shabby with light brown hair and torn robes. Something about the man seemed vaguely familiar; the way he stood, the way he smiled reassuringly as he steadied Harry, but Harry couldn't quite place his finger on a name.

"Yeah," said Harry. "Just stumbled."

Another rush of emerald flames engulfed the fire place and Narcissa appeared, looking a little flustered – Harry remembered that she also didn't like the Floo Network.

Narcissa took one look at the man and her lip curled in disgust. "Release my nephew, werewolf," she said, pulling Harry to her side. "Come, Draco," she called to her son. "Next time we shan't arrive at a place where _vermin_ are served."

Draco hurried to his mother's side while Harry gaped at the man. He was a werewolf? He didn't look like the werewolf, Fenrir Greyback, who was the only werewolf Harry knew.

The man narrowed his eyes at Narcissa, Harry and Draco as they swept from the pub and into the street.

Harry had been to Diagon Alley several times before, but he had never seen it so dismantled and in ruins.

A few people recognized Narcissa as a Death Eater's wife and shot the three of them dirty looks as they passed.

They passed Ollivander's and Harry remembered when he'd gotten his wand a few years ago. However, Bellatrix had come that time and had been very eager to see her son finally receive his very own wand.

After Draco had received his wand (ten inches, hawthorn with unicorn hair) Mr Ollivander had offered Harry many to try...

"_Here try this one – willow and dragon heartstring, nine inches. Very nice for duelling," said Mr Ollivander. _

_Harry waved it, feeling stupid and even stupider when the wand spluttered and almost seemed to cough at his touch._

"_No, no," said Mr Ollivander, handing Harry another wand as he took the willow wand away. Draco and Narcissa looked incredibly disappointed that Harry hadn't gotten a wand yet, but Bellatrix was merely watching silently. She didn't look annoyed or irritated at all._

"_Walnut, ten and a quarter inches with a unicorn hair as the core. Firm and good for transfiguration."_

_Harry was about to wave it when Mr Ollivander snatched it from his grip "No, no, not this one. Here – vine wood, ten inches, unicorn hair. Very nice for defending Dark Magic."_

_Bellatrix laughed shortly and Harry had to resist to snort; it would be unlikely that Dark Magic would be used against him. He waved it, but nothing happened. _

_After they'd tried about ten wands when Mr Ollivander pulled out a wand, his face thoughtful. "Why don't we try this one? Holly, eleven inches with a phoenix feather."_

_Bellatrix made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat and said, "A phoenix feather?" _

"_It is a very powerful core, Madam Lestrange," assured Mr Ollivander. "Mr Lestrange, please –"_

_Harry took the wand, exchanging an exasperated look with Bellatrix as he did. Harry didn't think this would be the wand – after all, the phoenix was the symbol of the Order. _

_However, once his fingers touched the holly wand, they were instantly filled with a warmth that Harry had ever felt before. Red and gold sparks shot out of the wand. "Oh, very good!" said Mr Ollivander excitedly._

_As Mr Ollivander took the wand away from Harry (who instantly felt like some part of him had been taken away) and walked over to his till, Bellatrix came up and patted Harry affectionately on the shoulder, apparently haven forgotten that the wand had a phoenix core. Honestly, Harry couldn't care any less anymore – the wand felt completely right for him._

_Bellatrix and Harry went over to the till and Harry heard Mr Ollivander murmuring to himself. "Odd. Very odd indeed."_

"_Sorry, but what's odd?" asked Harry. _

_Mr Ollivander shook his head and didn't respond, though he did give Harry a very strange look. _

Harry shook his head to clear the memory. Narcissa and Draco were a good ten feet ahead of him and so he hurried to catch up.

* * *

Sirius was walking down the street from Apparating outside his wards around his house, whistling. He was thinking of Jason and James were arguing about what position Jason would play when he got to Hogwarts (Sirius was rooting for Beater while James stubbornly said that he'd be a Chaser, just like his dad) when suddenly he was swarmed by Death Eaters.

It was out of the blue – he was just whistling and strolling down the street when suddenly there were a group of about seven hooded and masked people in front of him, all with their wands pointed at him and prepared to fire a curse.

"What the – _Accio wand_!" he shouted, fumbling his cloak for his wand. But, he was too slow. A Death Eater had already silently summoned it and was holding it, his pose triumphant.

Sirius was prepared to fight with his hands and a silent _Stupefy _hit him and knocked him over. The Death Eaters jeered and one kicked him roughly in the ribs.

Even though Sirius was furious about being captured, he couldn't help but think of how pathetic he was – not having his wand out when he knew Death Eaters would be after him.

""That's enough," said a cold voice that Sirius recognized as belonging to his cousin Bellatrix. Bile of hatred rose in his throat just at the thought of her. "The Dark Lord wants him alive."

Someone's shadow leaned over him and they removed their mask to reveal Bellatrix Lestrange's trademark leer. "Hey, coz. The Dark Lord wants a word with you."

* * *

A/N: Woo! Chapter four complete!

No one completely guessed who burned the house down, but 1Aszrael1 was the closest (for guessing Sirius) so you're the winner! Congrats! Aren't you so happy that you've won a virtual cookie? I know I would be....

And, don't worry everyone, next chapter has more of Harry! Don't forget to review :) but you won't because I've reminded you right? ;)

**Now, the important note! **This is for everyone who is worried about all the stereotypes of a Dark Harry fic (such as Harry having a sibling who everyone loves more, Harry being captured by the Order and turned to the Light, and any other stereotypes that I can't think of): you don't have to worry about this one. Yes, Harry has a brother but it isn't like people worship the ground he walks on and any other stereotypes that seem to come up in _The Boy Who Died_ will be used in a different way than the others I've heard of or read myself. It may appear that one particular stereotype does occur, but stick with the story and you'll discover that Harry really isn't Harry Potter in this one, but Henry Lestrange and Henry has a few tricks up his sleeve... And, everyone has been asking a lot of questions about how Harry and Hermione are going to get together and I just want to make it perfectly clear that it is very mild, very very mild H/Hr. Very very mild. Harry has his reasons for getting to know Hermione in the later chapters, but I can't say anything because it would be a spoiler.

Please review!


	5. Old Faces

A/N: Here's chapter five! Hope you all enjoy – and a quick note: James and Sirius both work for the Auror office and are still members of the Order.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to the wonderful JK Rowling.

**Chapter Five – Old Faces**

One of the Death Eaters conjured strong, silver ropes and they bound themselves around Sirius' immobile body.

"How are we getting him back to the Dark Lord?" asked a big Death Eater with a slow voice. "I don't want to have to carry him."

"You won't have to, Crabbe," snapped Bellatrix. "If he's standing, we can Apparate with him." She cleared her throat and pointed her wand at her cousin. "_Enervate_."

Sirius stirred feebly, but he could barely move an inch he was so tightly bound. Sirius, even under the circumstances he was in, still managed to smirk at his cousin. "Why don't you go tell Voldemort that I –"

Bellatrix smacked him across the face, drawing blood with her nails. "Don't you dare speak his name!" she shrieked.

Sirius ignored her, though his cheek was smarting from where she'd hit him. "I don't particularly fancy having a chat with him so why don't you go back and tell him that?"

Bellatrix drew her wand and was about to curse him when another voice spoke. "Bellatrix," said the cool voice of Rabastan firmly. "No. The Dark Lord wants him alive."

Her hand still shaking with rage, Bellatrix lowered it and snapped to a Death Eater beside her, "Nott, you Apparate with him."

A thin man stepped forward. He pointed his wand at Sirius and Sirius felt himself being hoisted to his feet by an invisible force. Once standing, Nott gripped his arm firmly.

"Wait," said Rabastan, drawing his wand and pointing it at Sirius' face. "_Obscuro_," he said, making a black blind fold twist its way out of his wand and around Sirius' eyes, blind folding him.

"Good," said Bellatrix. "Now, let's go."

Sirius felt himself being squeezed through time and space as Nott Apparated, dragging Sirius to his certain doom along with him.

* * *

"Hey, Lily?" called James, leaning into to the living room. He'd been playing wizard chess with Jason in the dining room.

"Yeah?" asked Lily, looking up from where she was reading on the sofa.

"Has Sirius called at all?" he asked, motioning to the roaring fireplace.

Lily shook her head. "No – he did say that he'd be over at four, right?"

James nodded, frowning. "It's almost six – I wonder what's keeping him? You don't think ... the Death Eaters -?"

Lily had the fleeting image of Sirius tied up in a cold room, but shook her head. He couldn't have been captured. "No," she said, reassuring James. "He probably just overslept."

James nodded, but didn't look convinced. "Okay," he said reluctantly. He looked out to where the sky was slowly darkening. "I said I'd swing by his place before I headed off to the office tomorrow so I'll see if he's all right then."

* * *

It was the first day of classes at Riddle Manor; Harry and Draco had dreaded this day for weeks. It meant summer was officially over and now school began.

They were sitting in the room the Dark Lord himself had given them for lessons. A table in the center of the room held all sorts of text books and jars full of strange things. Aside from that one, there was another table for the two boys and a third for whoever was teaching them that day. Two shiny new cauldrons sat on a built in desk in the room and a chalk board hung from one of the walls. There were also brown dummies piled up in a corner, just to the left of the chalk board. There was a small cupboard as well which held every single potion ingredient imaginable and above that was an old broken clock, hanging on the wall, its hands stuck on 1:38. Harry had never been in a different classroom, but he thought that this one was perfect. It had everything they could ever need.

Today, Lucius was teaching them about Dark curses. They'd gone over several already that morning and now Lucius had just written on the board 'Unforgivable Curses'.

"Now," he said, throwing down the piece of chalk that he'd been writing with. "The three Unforgivable Curses are ...?"

Harry and Draco exchanged glances; this was an easy question. They'd grown up with the Unforgivable Curses cast all around them; once Bellatrix had been so angry with Harry, that she'd Crucioed him. She'd apologized later, but Harry knew she really wasn't sorry.

"The Cruciatus Curse, the Imperious Curse and the Killing Curse," said Harry dully.

"Good," said Lucius. He walked over to the centre table and looked around in the jars for a few moments. Finally, he drew one out that contained three spiders. "It's too bad that the Dark Lord doesn't have any prisoners that he'd allow us to deal with, so these spiders will have to do. Now, I know that you both know what the curses look like, but this will give you the chance to actually cast them yourself."

"Wait," said Harry, his eyes lighting up. "We actually get to use the curses?"

Lucius nodded. "Just the Imperious Curse for today. But first, we're going to take a few notes."

He waved his wand at the chalk board and notes appeared. Harry and Draco immediately dipped their quills in ink and began to scribble them down.

" 'The Imperious Curse,' " read Lucius, pacing the room, " 'is used to control someone else by suggesting commands directly to them. When the caster says the incantation 'Imperio' and points their wand directly at the person, the subject is now under the caster's command. The caster only has to _think_ a command for the subject to do what the caster wants. The strength of each Imperious Curse depends on the strength of the caster and how much they mean the curse. The Imperious Curse was named as an Unforgivable Curse in 1717 by the Ministry of Magic at the time and subsequently outlawed. Now, the use of it on another human being is a life term in Azkaban.' "

Harry finished writing and looked up at Lucius expectantly. Once Draco had finished as well, Lucius tipped the jar onto the table, letting one of the spiders slid out.

"Ew," said Draco, shuddering.

"Watch carefully," said Lucius, pointing his wand at the spider. "_Imperio_!"

Instantly, the spider started to do a little jig, it's eyes having glazed over. Its legs were working fast and furious. Harry and Draco laughed as Lucius forced the spider to braid three of its legs together and then another three until he was a big knot.

"You may think it's funny, boys," said Narcissa, who'd walked into the room, a frown on her face. "But the Imperious Curse is almost a worse form of torture than the Cruciatus."

Harry and Draco stopped laughing and Lucius released the spider from the Imperious Curse. "Yes, Narcissa?" asked Lucius, hovering the spider back into the jar and putting it on the centre table.

"They've returned with Sirius Black," she explained. "The Dark Lord wants you."

Lucius nodded. "All right, boys," he said, wiping his hands on his robes. "We'll continue this later. Narcissa – do you want to do Potions with them?"

Narcissa nodded; she wasn't the best potion maker, but she was all right and was the one who mostly taught the boys Potions. Rabastan was better than her, but he was often too busy to actually spend the hours it would take eleven years olds to make a perfect potion.

When Lucius had swept from the room, Narcissa turned to the boys and gestured them to their cauldrons. "All right, now the potion we'll make today is very tricky and I won't be surprised if you have to start all over again a few times." That was how school at Riddle Manor operated; if there was one tiny mistake then the whole thing would have to be redone from scratch – that included any mistakes in essays or projects.

She wiped the board clean with her wand only to replace it with new instructions.

" 'Draught of Living Death,' " read Draco, surprised. "Isn't that an advanced Potion?"

Narcissa nodded and waved her wand again. Two textbooks floated over to the boys and dropped on the table, open to page ten.

"You have one hour to make the potion perfectly," she said, flicking her wand at the broken clock. Immediately it started to tick ominously.

Draco and Harry both hurried to the storage cupboard and gathered the ingredients and tools they needed, both shooting each other a dark look. It wasn't a competition but try telling Draco and Harry that.

* * *

After arriving to where the Death Eaters said Voldemort was, for Riddle Manor was under the Fidelius Charm and so the name wasn't known to Sirius, Sirius had been dumped in a small room with no windows and locked up, with a promise from Bellatrix that he would soon get to see Voldemort, though her voice didn't promise it would be a nice chat.

Sirius had manually searched the room for anything that could be used for an escape or to contact the Order but there was nothing. The room held only a small bench and a pot that Sirius assumed he was to use for the toilet.

It had been at least a day since he'd been dumped there, or so it felt like. He'd kicked the wall, swore when that bruised his toe and started to bang his head on the wall in despair. No food had been brought for him and so his stomach growled constantly.

Suddenly the door to the room slid open revealing two masked Death Eaters. "Black," one of them grunted. "Get up. The Dark Lord would like a word with you."

"Doesn't that line _ever_ get old?" Sirius muttered under his breath as he was forced to his feet and out of the cell.

They marched him down a flight of stairs and stopped at a steel door. They swung it open and threw Sirius in. He fell hard on his knees as his hands had been tied behind his back. His chin scrapped the stone floor, making a shallow cut.

As Sirius struggled to right himself, a cold, cruel voice spoke. "Ah," said the voice. Sirius looked up to see Lord Voldemort sitting in a high backed, marble chair, a cruel smirk twisting his features. His eyes held no mercy whatsoever.

* * *

Lily and Jason were eating lunch when James' panicked face appeared in the fireplace. "Lily!" he shouted.

Lily jumped to her feet, clasping her wand tightly. "James, what's wrong?" she demanded.

"Sirius –" gasped James, looking horrified. "He – he ... Voldemort has him!"

Lily gasped and dropped her wand with a clatter on the floor. Jason paled and said, "What?" as if he'd heard wrong.

"How do you know?" asked Lily in a hushed tone.

James shook his head and his eyes fell to the hearth, sickened. "Dumbledore has a spy in the Inner Circle Death Eaters. The spy told him about Sirius." He looked up at Lily. "He knows about the fire. He already killed Dearborn and now –" James choked and shook his head in horror. "Listen, Lily, I've got to tell Remus – we have to find a way to rescue Sirius. Dumbledore agrees; he's already contacted a few people and wants us all to meet at the Headquarters in an hour."

"Oh, James –" began Lily, her forehead crinkled with worry.

"He's my best friend, Lily!" roared James, making Jason and Lily jump. "Don't you dare tell me it's too dangerous!" He disappeared with a whirl of green flames.

Lily wordlessly and wandlessly summoned her wand and said, "Jason, Floo to Alice Longbottom's house, and tell her what's happened. Ask her if you can stay there for the day and maybe the night too."

"Mum!" said Jason. "I can't – not when my whole family –"

"Jason, that was not a request," said Lily, already gathering up her best cloak. She turned her emerald eyes on her son. "Go."

"Mum!"

"Jason, if I have to ask you once more to do as you're told ..." threatened Lily. She wasn't usually so harsh, but when Jason refused to listen then she got strict.

Jason looked furious but he stomped to the fireplace, making a pointed racket as he went.

After checking that Jason had arrived safely at Alice's and she was fine with him staying there, Lily herself Flooed to Headquarters, arriving just in time to see James and Remus in deep conversation with Dumbledore. All looked grave, as if someone had just died.

Praying against hope that Sirius hadn't been found dead, she hurried up to the three. "Any news?" she asked. James smiled a small smile at her before returning to the grave face.

Dumbledore shook his head in response to Lily's question. "No. And I take that as a good thing. But, we don't have long. Our spy told me that Voldemort won't keep Sirius alive for much longer than a day and it's already been eighteen hours."

* * *

"Sirius Black," Voldemort said softly, standing up to stride over to where Sirius was on the floor. "The arsonist."

He kicked Sirius sharply in the ribs, making Sirius gasp in pain. It felt as if a few ribs had been broken just by that one kick.

"What made you think you would escape my notice, Black?" asked Voldemort, motioning for Nagini. The great serpent started to circle the spot where Sirius lay, making him more alarmed than he already was. "What made you so special?"

Sirius considered that question; if he was going to die anyways, he decided to have a little fun with Voldemort. "What makes me special?" he repeated, heart beating fast. He wanted to keep Voldemort talking as long as he could. "Well, my name is Sirius Black, and my first names sounds like 'serious' so I use that joke all the time – it's something that no else can do so _that _makes me special –"

Suddenly his tongue seemed to knot together, silencing him.

"Apparently," said Voldemort, looking slightly amused at the sight of the gagged Sirius, "you do not understand what a rhetorical question is."

A few of the Death Eaters in the room snickered. Sirius looked around him, but saw that most people were masked. Sirius wondered if Wormtail or Ophelia were in the room...

"Remove your masks," said Voldemort, as if he had read Sirius' mind. "Our guest would like to know if he knows any of you."

Most of the Death Eaters removed their masks right away, not ashamed at all. Sirius recognized several people, most obviously his cousin Bellatrix who looked insanely happy that Sirius had been captured. He had the urge to get up and strangle her.

Two people hesitated in removing their masks, but removed them after a look from Voldemort. Severus Snape lowered his mask and glared at Sirius, his black eyes full of hate. Sirius grimaced and his hands started to shake as Ophelia's face was revealed from behind the other mask. She looked miserable and her eyes had huge black and purple bags under them from lack of sleep.

Sirius dropped his head, not wanting to look at Ophelia. He thought absently if James had noticed that he was missing yet.

All the Death Eaters had removed their masks except for one person. They were looking pointedly at the ground, refusing to budge.

"Wormtail," said Voldemort, sharply. "Remove your mask."

Sirius' head snapped up at Wormtail's name. That ... _rat_ was here? Sirius felt the bile in his throat rise at the thought of the friend who had betrayed James and Lily, who he hadn't seen since that fateful night.

"Wormtail," repeated Voldemort, his voice like ice. The man twitched but the man didn't make any effort to remove his mask. Voldemort snapped his fingers and the mask disappeared from the Death Eater's face to reveal a familiar round face with watery eyes.

Peter Pettigrew had aged greatly since Sirius had last seen him; his hair was almost completely grey and gone, more wrinkles lined his face and he'd lost a lot of weight.

Voldemort looked from Sirius to Wormtail, a truly evil smile lighting his features. "Oh, I'd almost forgotten. Wormtail here was the one who told me where little Harry Potter was living ten years ago ... the boy who I killed."

Sirius' eyes darted to Bellatrix, Harry's true murderer, but she didn't even flinch. Apparently, Voldemort had been taking all of the credit for Harry's murder.

"So," said Voldemort. "Is that why you set fire to my house, Black? For revenge?"

Sirius didn't answer, even though his tongue had unknotted itself when Voldemort had asked the question; he just stared back at Wormtail, wanting to murder the filthy animal where he stood.

"That was not a rhetorical question, Black," said Voldemort, twitching his wand only slightly at Sirius, but Sirius felt as if he'd been whipped twenty times all at once. The Death Eaters laughed.

"It's a pity," said Voldemort; instantly the Death Eaters' laughter was silenced. "A real shame. You have pure blood, Black. You would have been a great addition to the Death Eaters."

Bellatrix couldn't hold back a snort at that, but Voldemort ignored her.

"_Crucio_!" Voldemort hissed, pointing his wand at Sirius. Instantly Sirius felt as if he was on fire; he was going to die, this was agony, his bones were breaking, his blood was boiling – and then it was over. He panted into the silence that still echoed with his screams.

"That was only just a _taste_ of the anger you have stirred in Lord Voldemort, Black," hissed Voldemort. He strolled away from Sirius and back to his chair, looking bored.

"Really?" asked Sirius, shakily. "That was it?" He snorted. "Pathetic."

Bellatrix, who was nearest him, kicked him in the face; her sharp shoe leaving its imprint on his forehead and cheek.

Sirius coughed, spitting up a little bit of blood. When he looked up, Ophelia was looking horrified. He couldn't help himself; he was so angry that he shot out a jab at her. "Have you filed for divorce yet, Ophelia?" asked Sirius, his voice thick with blood. "Because technically, we're still married."

Ophelia looked confused; Sirius' mouth was full of blood and so his question had been jumbled. But, she apparently got the gist of it because her face contorted into ashamed expression.

Voldemort suddenly stood and pointed his wand at Sirius. "Where is Alastor Moody?" he demanded.

"I don't know," said Sirius truthfully.

Voldemort held the Cruciatus Curse on Sirius for several minutes. When he lifted it, Sirius had almost curled into a ball from the pain. "I know it was because of his foolish idea that you set fire to my house. Where is he?"

"I told you," said Sirius, his voice hoarse. "I don't know!"

"WHERE IS MOODY?" shrieked Voldemort, diving into Sirius' mind. He sorted through the memories, but found that Sirius was not lying; he didn't know. Voldemort was so furious that he Crucioed Sirius again. And again. And again.

He was so focused on Crucioing Sirius that he didn't even notice Severus Snape slip from the room, run to the fireplace in his private quarters and jump into the swirling emerald flames.

* * *

In the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, the fireplace was swirling with green flames, readying itself for someone's arrival.

James wondered vaguely who it could be; most of the Order had already arrived. There was Dedalus Diggle, his top hat perched precariously on his head, Elphias Doge with his grey hair, Lily's good friend from Hogwarts Emmeline Vance (though they rarely spoke nowadays) and many others that James recognized.

When Severus Snape stepped out of the fireplace, he was totally thrown off balance. Snape? What the hell...?

"Ah, Severus," said Dumbledore, nodding in Snape's direction. Lily stiffened at the name and turned around to face her ex-best friend, her eyes flashing. Ever since Snape had called her a Mudblood all those years ago, Lily hadn't spoken to him very much. After Harry had died, she'd invited him to the funeral but when he didn't show, she assumed that he had no remorse for joining Voldemort, even after he had been the one who'd killed his once best friend's child.

Snape's eyes flickered to Lily, but he looked back to Dumbledore, his face serious. He opened his mouth and was about to say something but James burst out, "_This_ is your spy, Dumbledore? Snape?"

Dumbledore shot James a silencing look and motioned for Snape to continue once James had shut up.

For a few moments James and Snape glared daggers at each other. Lily rested her hand on James' arm and he was the first to break eye contact, muttering under his breath. Snape watched Lily touch James' arm with an expressionless face, though his eyes revealed how much that hurt him.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Severus?"

Snape jerked and said, flushing slightly, "The Dark Lord has found out that Black doesn't know where Moody is –" here his black eyes looked to where the grizzly ex-Auror sat, looking grim – "and so he will soon just kill him."

"What can we do?" asked Remus swiftly, before James could jump at Snape and strangle him for delivering such devastating news.

Snape turned to Remus, his lip curling slightly. "I could bring several of you into the Manor," said Snape. "Of course, you would have to be blindfolded."

"What?" snapped James. "Why?"

"The Dark Lord's residence is under the Fidelus Charm, Potter," said Snape, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I'm sure you've heard of it," he drawled.

Before James could attack him, Dumbledore explained, "Voldemort's residence is under a certain kind of Fidelus Charm, James. People who are not informed of the secret can be brought in, for how would he have prisoners? They must be blindfolded, or the identity of the place must be kept secret otherwise it will not work."

Snape nodded. "Precisely. The only problem that I see with this is that almost all of the Death Eaters are at Riddle Manor at this moment; the Dark Lord himself is with Black. And..." here he looked directly at Dumbledore. "The Dark Lord will wonder how the Order got in. He will suspect treachery –"

"So?" said James, who could care less if Snape was killed by Voldemort or not. "This is Sirius we're talking about!"

Snape looked coolly at James. "Black was a fool to burn down the Dark Lord's home; I am amazed that he has been kept alive this long."

"Well, here's an idea," growled Moody, standing up from the table and looking Snape square in the face. "You say that you captured me. You were bringing me to the residence but somehow a few members of the Order caught hold of me and were able to be brought along with us."

James and Remus exchanged a glance; even Dumbledore looked thoughtful that that might work. It was a decent idea, however Snape wasn't as impressed.

"The Dark Lord will know that is not true. I am one of his most powerful Death Eaters – what will he think when I was not able to shake off only a few Aurors?"

"You're smart, Severus," said Lily, surprising everyone around her. "You'll figure it out."

To break the stare Snape was giving Lily, James said, innocently, "We could always Stun you." At the sharp looks he received, he added hastily, "I mean, when we've arrived at the residence. Voldemort will find you Stunned and then assume that we overpowered you."

People considered this and then Dumbledore spoke. "It is up to you, Severus."

Snape looked to where Lily and James stood, both looking fierce and determined to rescue Sirius. Snape shook his head tightly. "Fine."

* * *

When Voldemort stopped the Cruciatus Curse, Sirius had already passed out a long time ago.

"Bella," said Voldemort suddenly, his voice still cold and harsh.

"Yes, my lord?" asked Bellatrix, looking up to stare at Voldemort.

"Get Henry and Draco," said Voldemort, his voice thoughtful. "I think they should meet this member of your family before I dispose of him. It will show them that I will spare no one who stands in my way, not even a member of their own blood."

Bellatrix's eyes flickered to where Lucius was standing. He nodded slightly and so she swept from the room, purposely stepping on Sirius' hand as she went.

The two boys were in the midst of making a potion when she walked in, their heads buried in a textbook and the bluish smoke that filled the room.

"Henry, Draco," she snapped, making them start and look up in alarm. "Come. The Dark Lord wants you."

They exchanged a look and then jumped off their stools, picking up their wands as they did. Narcissa sighed from the teacher's desk, where she'd been reading. As Bellatrix and the boys swept from the room, she called, "You'll have to start the Potion again, boys!"

"What does he want?" asked Harry, hurrying after his mother.

"He wants you to meet someone," said Bellatrix simply.

"Who?" pressed Draco.

Bellatrix ignored him and ushered the two boys ahead of her and into the receiving chamber. The Death Eaters had barely moved an inch since Bellatrix had left.

Voldemort hadn't moved either; he was still sitting on his throne. Sirius was still unconscious on the floor.

Harry and Draco looked curiously at him, but as his hair had fallen in his face, they couldn't identify him.

"My lord," Bellatrix said, bowing slightly. The boys also muttered a quick "My lord," and inclined their heads reverently.

Voldemort looked up, but didn't say anything. He looked down at Sirius. "This, Henry, Draco," said Voldemort, his lip curling just looking at Sirius, "is your mothers' cousin – Sirius Black."

He didn't elaborate further, so Harry and Draco just nodded and murmured, "Oh."

The name had triggered something like an alarm in Harry's head, but he didn't understand what that could mean and so passed it off.

"I've brought you here," said Voldemort, addressing Draco and Harry, "because it is important that you know that even though Black here is your blood relative, if you choose the Light side, you will be murdered, no matter your relations."

Harry and Draco nodded tightly, watching Sirius closely.

Voldemort pointed his wand at Sirius and murmured, "_Enverate_." Sirius stirred and blinked his eyes, looking disoriented.

When his eyes focused again, he sat bolt up and tried to reach for his wand, but his hands were still tied. He looked wildly around the room, wincing as he moved.

His eyes flew over Draco and Henry, but then came back to stare at Henry. His eyes narrowed in confusion, as if he recognized Henry but couldn't put his finger on it.

"Black," said Voldemort, as casually as if he was introducing mutual friends. "Have you ever met Narcissa and Bellatrix's sons?"

Sirius didn't respond; he was still staring at Harry, looking confused. Harry felt very unnerved and looked away.

"This, Black, is Draco Malfoy and Henry Lestrange," said Voldemort.

Sirius still said nothing. Suddenly his eyes widened and his mouth opened in an 'O' of surprise. He opened his mouth to say something, but Voldemort cut him off.

"You are being very rude, boys," said Voldemort, smirking as he scolded Harry and Draco. "You haven't even said hello to your cousin."

"Hello," muttered Harry and Draco, at once. Harry looked at Sirius; Sirius looked like he'd just been trampled by a Hippogriff, he was so thunderstruck. He ignored their greeting; his mouth still open in surprise. He closed it once and blinked.

"Harry?" he whispered, looking at Harry as if he couldn't believe it. Harry started; how did this man know his family nickname? He and Draco exchanged bewildered looks.

Bellatrix strode forward and kicked Sirius hard. He cried out in pain.

"How dare you speak to my son!" she shrieked. "Filthy –"

"Enough, Bellatrix," said Voldemort sharply. Instantly Bellatrix stopped; she was still breathing hard and furious as she resumed her place in the circle of Death Eaters.

Sirius looked back to Harry, his face now unsure.

When Voldemort made no effort to speak and Sirius was still staring at Harry, Harry said, "My name is Henry."

"Henry?" repeated Sirius, looking even more confused. Ophelia looked from Harry to Sirius, her face now confused as well.

"Is there a problem, Black?" asked Voldemort quietly. He was addressing Sirius, but Ophelia jumped at the name.

Sirius ignored Voldemort. "You're not Henry," he said softly, looking at Harry. "You're Harry. Harry –"

Before he could finish that thought, Voldemort started to laugh. His haunting laughs echoed throughout the room, making Sirius fall quiet and the Death Eaters regard the Dark Lord with confusion.

When Voldemort stopped laughing, he said, "Death Eaters, our dear friend here has been driven mad, quite mad. He has mistaken Bellatrix's son, her flesh and blood, to be Harry Potter, _Harry Potter_, the boy that I killed ten years ago."

At this the Death Eaters started to roar with laughter, even Harry and Draco exchanged smirks. What hogwash.

Sirius didn't even flinch as the laughter bounced off the walls around him.

When Voldemort held up a hand for silence, the Death Eaters fell silent, though most still had grins of merriment on their faces still.

"Henry," said Voldemort, smirking. "Why don't you set our guest straight? Tell him who you are."

Harry and Draco exchanged a look, and then Harry stepped forward.

"But first," said Voldemort, "we have much too many Death Eaters in here. All of you except Bellatrix, Lucius, Wormtail, Ophelia, Draco, out."

The Death Eaters filed from the room and left only those Voldemort had named, Voldemort himself, Harry and Sirius.

"Go ahead, Henry," said Voldemort, once the door had slid shut behind the last Death Eater.

Harry took another step towards Sirius, who watched him approach him with bated breath.

* * *

"This is ridiculous," muttered James, tottering around with a black cloth over his eyes.

"It's the only way, Prongs," said Remus, who was also blindfolded, but standing still and calm. Lily was also standing still beside Remus, though she was ringing her hands nervously in her palm, around her wand.

Dumbledore had been preparing the fire; he called, "First group, are you ready?" Dumbledore had divided the Order into groups of four – that way Snape could ferry them all there and then return for the next group quickly.

James, Remus, Lily and Moody were the first group up. As the other members of the Order helped them into the fireplace, Snape found it hard to resist punching the blindfolded James in the face.

Once the five were safely in the fire place, all linked arms – Snape had tried to link arms with Lily, but got Moody instead.

Snape murmured, "_Muffliato,__" _and instantly no one could hear him utter the words, "Riddle Manor!" into the fireplace. Snape, James, Moody, Remus and Lily all disappeared in a flurry of green flames.

Snape watched for the Riddle Manor gate and jumped out when it was time, pulling the other four with him as he went. James was the last one and he tripped over the fireplace hearth, falling flat on his face.

He was about to shout out a few swear words, when Lily clamped a hand on his mouth. "Shush," she ordered. She untied his blindfold and helped him to his feet.

James looked around, they were in some sort of bedroom with grey silk sheets and windows. Odd, he managed to think, before demanding, "Where is Sirius?"

"The Dark Lord's private receiving room," said Snape. "It would be foolish to go now, with all the Death Eaters still there –"

"Where is it?" snarled James.

Snape shot James a very dirty look and said, "In the basement. Tap the seventh stone up from the floor and the seventh across from the wall to enter."

James nodded and hurried from the room, followed by Remus and Moody. Lily lingered, casting a small smile at Severus before following the three men.

* * *

Sirius watched the black haired boy who had entered with Bellatrix approach him, a frown on his face. It was uncanny – it was like he was watching a miniature James, a version of the James he had met when they were both eleven. The boy had the same messy black hair, a similar nose and the same thin face. The only thing that was off from the baby Harry Potter he had known was that the boy had startling onyx eyes, not emerald. That fact alone made Sirius now unsure of what he had first thought; after all the Potters and Lestranges were distantly related and so it wouldn't be uncommon for Rodolphus' son to have similar features to the Potters.

The boy knelt down before Sirius and said, rather harshly, "My name is Henry Lestrange _not_ Harry Potter."

The voice that spoke from the boy's throat sounded familiar, a similar octave to James' or even James' father who Sirius had gotten to know well when he was a teen. But the venom and the spite that laced the boy's tone weren't familiar at all – except of course to Bellatrix's speech.

"You don't look like Bellatrix's son," he said, even more unsure now that he heard the boy speak. "You look like James Potter," said Sirius, quietly so only Henry could hear him.

"No," Henry said, through clenched teeth, look thoroughly annoyed. "I don't. I look like _my_ father, Rodolphus Lestrange. I'm not the son of some blood traitor and his filthy Mudblood wife," he spat. For a moment, the boy looked slightly surprised at his own venom, but his eyes soon hardened over. At that moment, the boy looked so much like Bellatrix that Sirius forgot the first reason that he thought it might have been his Harry standing there.

Henry, who looked convinced that Sirius wouldn't say anything else, turned to go. Desperate for Henry to be Harry, Sirius asked, "You – you don't remember me?

The boy turned back to face Sirius, but no flicker of recognition flashed in his eyes. "Why would I remember someone I've never even met?" he said coldly, crossing his arms and looking very annoyed.

Sirius looked at the boy, watching how he angrily crossed his arms just like he'd seen Rodolphus do a few times, stalk away like Bellatrix and scowl as darkly as any Death Eater and the hope faded fast from his heart. No matter how much Henry looked like Harry, he wasn't him. It had been a stupid hope; after all, Harry Potter was dead.

Henry turned away and muttered something to the blond boy as he rejoined him, shrugging his shoulders. Sirius couldn't help notice that when Henry shrugged, his left shoulder rose slightly higher than the right: something that Lily always did. He brushed that thought away – the differences outweighed the similarities.

Sirius looked down to the floor. He had just silently decided that it would be peaceful to die when the door to the room burst open and chaos filled the room as shouts of "_Stupefy_!" filled the air.

* * *

Snape had ferried about twelve people through when the shouts of the Order and Death Eaters reached his ears. He grimaced as he stepped once more into the fireplace, hoping that the Dark Lord wouldn't figure out who the traitor was.

* * *

As the Order burst into the receiving chamber, several things happened at once. Ophelia shrieked as a red light hit her and she fell over, Stunned. Wormtail hadn't been hit by a Stunner, but he'd transformed into his Animagus form and disappeared from the action. Draco had also been hit by a Stupefy; his falling body hit Henry and knocked the pair of them down.

Voldemort pointed his wand straight up into the ceiling and shrieked, "_Contremisco_!"The ground shook violently, knocking over several of the Order.

While they were down, Voldemort shrieked another curse and instantly both Bellatrix and Lucius grasped their right forearm as the Dark Mark burned. It would only be a matter of minutes before more Death Eaters arrived.

Harry was pinned on the floor, under Draco but he could still see all the action from under his cousin's arm.

Bellatrix, Lucius and Voldemort had been encircled by about a dozen Order members. Harry saw the man that he'd seen in Diagon Alley a few days ago standing beside a redheaded woman, both of who were looking with intense hatred at Bellatrix.

Lucius and Bellatrix didn't even look at each other, but simultaneously cast the Killing Curse. Bellatrix's struck a short woman with black hair and Lucius hit the wall as his target ducked, creating a huge black hole in the wall.

The Order shrieked as one as the woman collapsed. Voldemort sent off three Killing Curses at once into the group; two missed but one hit a tall, blond haired man who crumbled instantly.

The Order dispersed into battling separately. Four people were duelling Voldemort at once, including the werewolf Harry had seen earlier at Diagon Alley several days ago. Voldemort looked like he could have been enjoying an ice cream sundae it was so easy for him. He sent out a Killing Curse and it struck a tall woman whose scream was cut off as she fell down, dead.

Lucius was battling three of the Order, but it didn't look as easy for him. He was mostly running and ducking.

Bellatrix was battling two people, the redheaded woman and a short, rather stout man. She was a very skilled witch and so she was handling it with perfect executions of spells each time

"You killed my son!" shouted the redheaded woman, firing off a curse at Bellatrix who easily blocked it.

"Oh, little itty bitty Potter?" sneered Bellatrix, sending a Killing Curse at the woman. A black haired man with glasses, who was not battling anyone, roared in horror, but the woman had ducked and was not hurt by the curse.

Harry found it very odd that this man was not battling; he watched from under Draco as the man inched his way towards where Sirius was. The man pointed his wand at Sirius' bonds and instantly Sirius was freed.

Without even thinking of the consequences, Harry screamed, pointing to the man, "There! Mother, there!"

Bellatrix looked over to where Harry was pointing, but had to duck as a curse came flying towards her. She shrieked and shot off a Killing Curse at one of her duellers.

The black haired man looked up to see who had seen him rescuing Sirius. Harry stared defiantly back at the man, resisting the urge to stick his tongue out. Once the man had seen it was a young boy, he looked regretful, but nonetheless shouted, "_Stupefy_!"

The red jet of light headed straight for Harry, but he quickly flattened himself to the floor even more. The jet of light went right over Harry's head, rustling his hair, but it didn't touch him.

Bellatrix had seen the man shoot the spell at Harry and so she shrieked with rage. "How dare you touch my son! _Avada Kedavra_!"

"James!" shrieked the redheaded woman in panic. The man, James, looked up in time and was able to drop to the floor and out of the way of the green jet of light. Bellatrix screamed in anger and started sending curse after curse at James as well as the other two she was duelling.

James was still duelling Bellatrix, but he still managed to shout, "Let's go!" to the rest of the Order.

Immediately, all the Order dropped to the floor, startling Voldemort, Bellatrix and Lucius. The Order each pulled some random object out of their pocket and instantly disappeared, Sirius being tugged along with the werewolf.

An uneasy silence fell over the room, only to be broken by the heaving breathing of the duellers. Because of how quiet it was, Harry was aware of how fast his heart was beating.

Voldemort had just turned to Bellatrix and Lucius, his eyes livid, when suddenly the door burst open and Death Eaters flooded the room, all with wands drawn and ready for a battle.

Upon seeing the bodies strewn about the floor with no enemy in sight, they all lowered their wands.

Voldemort strode over to them, stepping on one of the fallen Order as he went. "How," he said, his voice low and deadly, "did the Order manage to enter my home? How?" He waved his hand and instantly all the Death Eaters in the room, even Bellatrix and Lucius, shrieked as a mass Cruciatus Curse was cast upon them.

Harry could barely watch as his mother and uncle collapsed to the ground, shrieking and writhing in agony. Bellatrix, who almost never had the Cruciatus Curse cast upon her by Voldemort, was trying so hard not to scream that she had bit her lip enough to make blood gush from it.

Harry looked away, focusing hard on the stone floor until the screams had subsided. He glanced up see Voldemort storming to his private meeting room to where his personal chambers were, summoning his snake and slamming the door with magic as he did so.

After Voldemort had left and the Death Eaters had shakily gotten to their feet, leaving the room and gathering the three dead Order members, Harry was pulled out from under Draco's unconscious body by a terrified looking Bellatrix.

"Henry!" she said, sounding immensely relieved to find him unhurt. She enveloped him into a tight hug. "Are you are all right, darling? That spell that Potter cast at you didn't hurt you?"

"No, Mother," said Harry, mumbling into her shoulder, realizing that the man, James's, who had fired the Stunning Spell at him, surname was Potter. "It missed me, I'm fine." Even to him, his words sounded dull, flat and unbelievable.

Bellatrix wasn't fooled. She held Harry at arm's length and said firmly, "You're coming to dinner with me tonight, darling. We'll have a nice private meal, just the two of us, okay?"

Harry nodded, smiling slightly at the thought of some alone time with his mother. He barely ever got to do that anymore and he did love their time together, even if she was in a foul mood sometimes.

Bellatrix smiled at Harry once more, gave him another quick hug and then hurried off to help her fellow Death Eaters.

Harry turned to his still unconscious cousin and drew his wand, which had been safely stored in his pocket and hadn't been harmed by Draco falling on him. He pointed it at Draco, muttering in a shaky voice, "_Enervate_."

Draco's grey eyes whirled around the room in a panic and he sat bolt up, knocking Harry's wand out of his hand as he did so. As the blond boy opened his mouth to say something, or perhaps shriek, he saw the scene around him: shaky Death Eaters, bodies being pulled from the room, and damage to the walls, even a chip in the Dark Lord's throne, and he shut his mouth.

Harry helped Draco to his feet and then the pair of them, silent as mice, slipped from the room. They still didn't speak as they hurried up to Harry's room.

Once Draco had shut the door firmly behind them, they both looked at each other. Draco slid to the floor, looking thoroughly relieved to be out of the battle and Harry sat on his bed, staring straight at the wall.

"I can't believe we were right there," said Draco, looking shaken.

Harry nodded absently, but his mind was whirring. He was ashamed to say that the battle had affected him, making him very scared.

He didn't know why; was it because Voldemort had been defeated in his own home? Or, perhaps, it was because he had seen three people murdered in cold blood just before his eyes, one by his own mother. Or, he didn't want to admit this, but was it because he had had a spell shot at him and was unable to defend himself with magic because he had been pinned down?

Harry sighed and leaned back on the bed. Even though it had just been a Stupefy, Harry had felt threatened, more threatened than he ever had before. He had been attacked in a battle situation and wasn't able to protect himself.

Almost subconsciously, Harry decided that he would now be as good at battling as he possibly could, in order never to feel so vulnerable again.

He was still holding his wand and he held it up to his face, twirling it above him as he lay down. The wand felt powerful, even if the core was a phoenix.

Faintly, he remembered hearing the Dark Lord tell Bellatrix, who was complaining about Harry receiving a phoenix wand, that he himself had a core of phoenix feather in his wand.

Harry smiled slightly and imagined himself able to do all the types of magic that Voldemort could do. He was still imagining himself being able to cast a mass Cruciatus Curse all over the Order of the Phoenix when he drifted off to sleep, clutching his wand to his chest like it was his life force.

* * *

A/N: Please review! So sorry about the long update time!


	6. All Kinds of Lessons

A/N: A pretty fast update if you ask me! But, alas, that's what happens when your three best friends a, go away, b, are working or c, got their wisdom teeth pulled out over Thanksgiving weekend when I have no school. So, yeah, thank them :)

Anyways, back to this chapter: We have a lot of Harry and Bellatrix, as well as a touch of Rabastan and the Dark Lord, interaction in this one! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to the wonderful JK Rowling.

**Chapter Six – All Kinds of Lessons **

"Albus, he knows that it was I who let the Order in," said Severus Snape, pacing the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts. He looked very worried, the planes of his face scrunched into lines.

Dumbledore sighed and took his glasses off, placing them on the desk in front of him. He massaged the bridge of his nose for a few moments before saying, "Has Tom said anything to you yet?"

Snape shook his head. "No, I didn't stick around long enough for him too. He hasn't seen me since the Order attack."

"Well, of course he knows then. You gave yourself away by disappearing," scolded Dumbledore.

"No, I gave myself away when I let you in," Snape snapped. He sighed and said, "I'm sorry, but I can't return to Voldemort without losing my life."

"I understand," said Dumbledore, nodding sadly. "You have braved much more than any other could possibly. You will now be hunted as closely as I am, but as long as you remain here at Hogwarts, you'll be safe."

Snape snorted. "You make it sound so easy, Dumbledore, but I wish you could walk one day in my shoes." He turned and left the room, leaving Dumbledore sitting behind the desk with a very sad expression.

* * *

After the incident with the Order of the Phoenix, Harry threw himself into his lessons. Draco had been furious that Harry was surpassing him and so had also studied harder. The boys' teachers were amazed at their quick progress, even Lord Voldemort, when in a rare good mood, had commentated on their skills.

Unfortunately, the boys didn't have access to the special practice room at Riddle Manor. The day after the Order of the Phoenix attack, Lord Voldemort had moved all the Death Eaters from Riddle Manor to Thistle Estates, two huge mansions that were in the thick of one of Scotland's largest glens, just until he felt comfortable enough to return to Riddle Manor. Voldemort knew exactly who had betrayed him but had refused to admit it. Bellatrix had hinted to Harry that it had been Severus Snape and that made sense to Harry now that he hadn't seen Snape around since the Order attack.

Since Thistle Estates were so out of the way of most of the Death Eaters, the majority weren't around all the time. Bellatrix and Harry were there every day, Voldemort having granted them both their own suites again. Seeing as Draco and Harry were taking lessons together, Draco was staying with Harry too. However, Lucius had to keep up appearances and so he and Narcissa hadn't come to stay. They appeared a few times a week, but not very often.

Because both of their parents were often absent, Bellatrix being at Voldemort's side every minute of every day and Lucius and Narcissa back at the Malfoy Manor, Harry and Draco spent a lot of time studying or exploring Thistle Manor.

Harry had been there once before, when he was six, and so didn't remember much of it. The larger of the two mansions on the property contained a large library that had too many books to even count, the Dark Lord's huge suites that were off limits to everyone (containing his very own kitchen with house-elves, a private bedroom and bath suite, a study, a dining room big enough for fifty and two sitting rooms), a kitchen (with house-elves of course!) and dining room for the Death Eaters, several unused bedrooms and a huge basement that the Dark Lord had turned into a dungeon.

The only slighter smaller mansion held all the Death Eater suites and a few lounge like areas for them all. Harry and Draco's room, since they had to share, was on the third floor and had a huge balcony.

They had been at Thistle Manor for three months now; it was reaching the end of November and the heaviest snowfall to date had just fallen. The huge grounds of Thistle Estates were covered in a thick, white blanket.

At the moment, both boys were out on their balcony, clutching their broomsticks. Lessons were going to resume after breaking for lunch soon, but they had decided not to waste the hour they had for lunch and were going to fly off the balcony. There was a large tree just beyond where the mowed grass (now covered in the snow of course) and they were going to race to it. Harry had bet Draco ten Chocolate Frogs that he couldn't beat him. Draco, being so competitive, accepted.

Because of the run in with Rosier last time, they had stalked out the Death Eater lounge a week before, listening for when the Death Eaters would mostly be gone. Since today was a huge attack (something to do with Hogsmeade, was it?) only the regular guards and a few stragglers had remained at Thistle Estates. The Dark Lord had also disappeared for about a week, but today he had said he would most likely return.

"Ready?" asked Harry, looking at his watch – lessons would be starting in five minutes.

"Oh, yeah," said Draco, grinning. "I'm going to win this time."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Keep telling yourself that, Draco."

Both boys climbed up onto the barrier of the balcony, Draco tottering a little bit over the edge, and mounted their brooms. It was a windy day, but hopefully that wouldn't affect the match two much. Both boys had warm cloaks on, each wearing a Slytherin coloured hat and scarf. It didn't matter to them that they didn't attend Hogwarts: they'd stolen Lucius' old things and were using them themselves.

"One, two, three!" shouted Harry. "GO!"

Both boys jumped off the edge and plummeted towards the ground. Draco got control of his broom first and soared towards the tree. Harry soon followed, already almost on Draco's tail.

Almost immediately, Harry relaxed. He hadn't known that tension had been bothering him, but as soon as he hit the frigid winter skies, felt the icy breeze whip his bare cheeks, he was free. He sighed and whooped loudly with glee.

While Harry was having his little moment, Draco had pulled ahead, shouting over his shoulder, "Lestrange the loser!"

Harry growled and urged his broom forward, but Draco was already much farther ahead. "Come on, come on!" hissed Harry, leaning forward to make his Nimbus travel just a tad faster.

But it was a lost cause. Draco was much farther ahead. "I'm winning, I'm winning," hollered the blond boy, just about to slap the tree. "You owe me ten frogs, Harry!"

"Don't bet on it!" Furious that he was going to lose, Harry drew his wand and aimed it at Draco's flying form, closing one eye to get a better shot. "_Spargo_!" he shouted, casting the Hurling Hex onto Draco.

Draco shrieked in alarm as his broom started to buck and vibrate violently. It seemed to have gained a mind of its own – it was flying to the right, jerking abruptly to the left, dropping dangerously close to the ground, soaring to the sky and then twirling around and around in circles.

Draco started to slide off of the broom, panic registering plain in his face. Harry ignored his cousin's screams and zoomed towards the tree. He slapped it, dunking his hand into the thick snow that covered the tree for effect, and shouted triumphantly, "I win! Take _that_, Draco! Draco?"

Draco was nowhere in sight. Harry suddenly felt all his glee at winning the race ebb away in an instant. Harry had been so caught up in winning that he hadn't noticed when Draco's screams had stopped.

"Draco?" called Harry, descending so that he could see the ground better than up high at a tree's top. The forest floor was white, with brown dirt speckles and a lifeless body lying, face down in the snow.

_Oh no_, thought Harry as he hurriedly descended. Draco was unmoving, his broom broken clean in half laying next to him.

Harry was about five feet off the ground when he jumped down and raced to his cousin's side. "Draco?"

The blond boy didn't stir as Harry shook him. _Oh, crap_, thought Harry, leaning back after shaking Draco for several minutes straight. He'd managed to turn Draco over so that he wasn't suffocated by snow, but that was about the best he could do.

Wait a minute – Harry was a wizard! He could do something more than just _shake _Draco!

He pointed his wand at Draco and said, "_Enervate_." The small jet of purple struck Draco's chest and was absorbed instantly. Draco twitched, but then went still again.

Harry, thanking his lucky stars that he hadn't killed his cousin but a little disappointed at his weak Revival Charm, shook him again. "Draco, Draco, come on! Wake your lazy ass up!"

Draco didn't move, his head lolled lopsided. He was still unconscious; Harry's spell hadn't been strong enough to wake him.

Narcissa was going to be pissed.

Harry looked down to his watch; lessons had resumed several minutes ago. Rabastan, who was teaching them today, was going to be pissed too.

Sounds heavy footfalls and the sound of squished snow suddenly reached Harry's ears. He left Draco's side and crawled to a hedge where he could see quite a few Death Eaters strolling up to the smaller manor, all who looked furious. Some had burn marks all over them, some had torn robes and blood all over; they weren't very well dressed for the chilly weather and so most were hastening to the Manors for warmth. They all looked pissed, as if their mission hadn't been successful.

One Death Eater, who still had his mask on and so Harry couldn't ID him, was walking behind four floating bodies in black cloaks: dead Death Eaters.

Thankfully, Bellatrix wasn't among the dead. Harry spotted her storming at the rear of the Death Eaters. Her curly black hair had been singed badly and then had been frozen by the cold temperature. There was a bleeding cut on her cheek and several long, thin, blood stains all down her silver-grey winter cloak.

He'd tip-toed, crouched down like a little boy, to a snowy hedge that was in view of the path to the Manors. He was hidden from the Death Eaters if he wished to but seeing Bellatrix he decided he had better get help for Draco from someone who actually knew what they were doing; no matter how wounding to Harry's pride that was.

Praying she wouldn't kill him for knocking out Draco, Harry hissed, trying to be discreet and stay out of the way of the livid Death Eaters, "Mother. Mother!"

Bellatrix turned, her wand already drawn as she pointed at the hedge, her eyes full of fury. When she saw it was Harry, she lowered her wand but her eyes didn't lose any of the anger.

The Death Eaters didn't even notice her stop and stride over to where Harry was crouched. "What the hell are you doing out here, hiding behind a shrub, Henry?" she demanded. "Don't you have lessons right now? Stand up straight, boy, don't crouch there like a Mudblood," she snapped.

Harry got up off the forest floor and stood facing his mother, brushing the snow of his cloak. "Yeah, we do have lessons. But, you see, Draco and I were–"

"Draco? I don't see him – where is he?"

Harry didn't answer. Bellatrix narrowed her eyes and pushed past Harry. She stopped short when she saw Draco and the broken broom beside him.

She whirled around and wordlessly Summoned Harry to her side. Harry was pulled by an invisible force to his mother, stumbling as the spell released. Bellatrix grabbed his arm and twisted him so that she could see his face.

"What did you do, Henry?" she demanded, shaking him. "What did you do?"

"Nothing!" lied Harry, trying not to wince at her strong grip. From this close distance; Harry could see that the cut on her cheek was deep, the blood freezing on her cheek as she stood. Her black eyes, so like his own, were also frozen: she was very, very angry.

"Henry," said Bellatrix, her voice threatening, eyes flashing, "tell me what you did to him. Stupefy? The Killing -"

"No!" said Harry hurriedly, aghast that his mother could even think that. "No, no, it was the Hurling Hex. I wanted to win the race –" he said, blushing slightly at how stupid that sounded.

"Just a hex?" questioned Bellatrix, interrupting Harry.

Harry nodded. "Just the Hurling Hex. I didn't think it would knock him out –"

"No, it wouldn't, but if the broom bucks him off from fifty feet in the air, do you think he'll be perfectly fine?" She shook him once more and then released him, striding over to Draco As she walked, Bellatrix muttered, "Good thing it was snowy – cushioned his fall most likely. What a _stupid_ thing to do ..."

Harry glared at his mother, trying to make his eyes freeze as hers did when she was angry. It was a skill he had been practicing in front of the mirror. Harry rubbed his arm; he would have a bruise tomorrow.

Bellatrix knelt down next to her nephew and moved her hand over him, assessing damage. She frowned and pulled out her wand. "Did you try anything to revive him?" asked Bellatrix, not even looking up.

"Yes," said Harry. "I did the Revival Charm, but he just twitched and went unconscious again."

Bellatrix nodded. "Your spell probably wasn't strong enough. How far did he fall?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Twenty feet maybe?"

"Oh, that's not too bad," said Bellatrix thoughtfully.

"_Enervate_," said Bellatrix, sending out a thick purple jet of light at Draco, one much stronger than Harry's. The spell hit Draco's chest and he twitched violently, opening his eyes.

"What the –" he started to say, trying to sit up. Bellatrix pushed him back down, not gently at all.

She turned to her son, looking very annoyed. "Henry, are you going to do this again? Hex your cousin just to win a silly little race? What did the winner get – five Chocolate Frogs?"

"Ten," said Draco, his voice a little hoarse.

Bellatrix shot him a dark look and he shut up immediately. "Well, Henry? Will you do this again?"

"No," said Harry, sulkily. "I won't."

"Good," said Bellatrix, getting to her feet. "Because if you wish to attack someone, make sure it is someone on the Light side."

Harry nodded and muttered his accord.

Bellatrix sighed loudly and turned away. She paused and then turned back. "Oh, yes, Henry, we'll be having dinner with the Dark Lord this evening when he returns."

Harry perked up. "Really? He wants to eat with us?"

Bellatrix nodded. "Yes, darling. We can discuss your punishment there."

"Punishment! But –"

"Do not interrupt me, Henry Lestrange!" said Bellatrix. "And, yes, punishment. Do you think you'll be off the hook so easily for nearly murdering your only cousin?" She paused, seemingly thinking about something. "Come to my suite this evening at seven o'clock, Henry," she instructed. "We will discuss your punishment over dinner."

Harry nodded and Bellatrix turned on her heel, blasting the shrub out of her way return to the path. "Do not be late," she called over her shoulder.

"I won't," said Harry, but Bellatrix was already gone. Harry turned to Draco, who was still looking shaken; his neat blond hair was all askew. "I'm sorry, mate," Harry said, reaching out his hand and pulling Draco to his feet.

Draco shook his head and then grinned. "I'll forgive you, but you have to give _me_ the ten Chocolate Frogs."

Harry sighed. "Fine."

Draco's grin grew. Then he saw his broken broom and his smile faded fast. "Dad's going to kill me," he whispered.

Harry laughed. "Oh well. It isn't like Uncle Lucius even _bought_ those. He can probably get you another one."

Draco sighed dejectedly. "Yeah, that's true. Here," said Draco, suddenly with a gleam in his eyes, "Since you're the one who broke my broom, you take it back to our room and I'll go tell Rabastan that you'll be a long in a few minutes. Can you bring my books, too? They're on my bed."

This sounded reasonable to Harry and so he nodded. They picked up the pieces of the broom, Draco thrusting all that he'd picked up into Harry's arms. Draco headed to the larger manor, where the library and the small schoolroom were and Harry to the smaller, to the boys' room.

Harry was whistling as he walked, relieved that he hadn't killed his cousin. He exchanged the broken Nimbus with his and Draco's books and headed back to the school room.

When he arrived, Rabastan had his back to the door, writing something on the blackboard. From what Harry had seen of pictures of his father, Rabastan and Rodolphus had been close in appearance; a thin face with a slender frame.

Harry slipped in, wishing, not for the first time, that they had a bigger class so that slipping in late wasn't so noticeable.

Draco nodded his thanks as he accepted his books from Harry and then pointedly looked away, a poorly disguised smile on his face. Confused, Harry gave Draco an odd look and then opened up his books.

Rabastan turned around and looked slightly surprised to see Harry there. "Nice of you to finally join us, Henry," he said. "Draco said you'd decided to skip this lesson."

"What?" said Harry. "No, I just had to get our books –"

"Good thing you did, because for being late you've just been assigned a thousand word essay on why being punctual is important and also why attending classes are important."

Harry's mouth fell open. "What! But, Uncle –"

"Arguing, Henry?" said Rabastan in a low growl. "Make it 1500 words."

Harry opened his mouth again, but shut it quickly at the sight of Rabastan's face. Once Rabastan had turned back to the board, Harry shot Draco a dirty look and muttered, "You don't get _any_ Chocolate Frogs."

* * *

Neville was amazed at how fast the school year was going. It was already the end of November, but it felt like school had just started.

All of Neville's classes were already starting to pile on homework for the Christmas Holidays. He had a Potions essay due for Professor Snape (who scared the living daylights out of Neville), three Charms textbook questions, a Transfiguration project and another essay for Herbology.

Thank goodness for Hermione Granger.

Hermione was the cleverest witch in the year and an acquaintance of Neville. Ron Weasley, who Neville had become friends with, didn't particularly like Hermione and always muttered something about having to go the bathroom when she appeared.

Since Neville had trouble with every class, except Herbology, Hermione was helping him out a great deal. Since Ron hadn't been able to slip away this time, Hermione had offered to help him as well.

However, Hermione was a know-it-all sometimes and every once and a while Neville would have to cover his work so that she couldn't see if he made any errors or not.

Thankfully for Neville, Hermione had taken Ron's essay and was trying to correct it for him.

"No, really," Ron insisted, tugging on his Potions essay, trying to pry it from Hermione's grasp, "I can do this part on my own."

"But you've said hedgehog quills instead of porcupine!" said Hermione, looking thoroughly annoyed.

"Really," said Ron, finally tugging away his essay. "I'm fine."

Hermione sat back in her chair and sighed. "Fine, then. I hope Professor Snape fails you."

Ron snorted. "He probably will, but that's 'cause I'm Gryffindor. Not because I said hedgehog instead of porcupine. Same thing, really."

"No, not really," argued Hermione.

"Hey, hey," said Neville, raising his hands. "Does it really matter, Hermione? Let Ron fail – here, have a go at my essay." He handed her his ink stained parchment and she reluctantly took it. Ron shot Neville a grin and then looked back down to his essay, crossing out every time he said hedgehog and replacing it with porcupine.

After Hermione had read through it, she smiled weakly. "Very nice ... _try_, Neville, but really – it's nettles, not thorns that are used in a boil-cure potion."

"Oh," said Neville. "Really? But I thought Professor Snape said thorns."

Hermione shook her head and smiled. "No, he said that if you fail this essay, he's going to give you a potion that makes you grow thorns all over your face." She cast a glance at Ron and said in a quieter tone, "I hope there isn't a cure on hand."

"Har har," said Ron, looking up. "Very funny, Hermione. Was that supposed to be a joke?"

Hermione scowled, aggravated that her joke wasn't appreciated.

"If you want to _joke_," said Ron. "You needn't be so serious all the time - what do you do in your spare time, go to the library?"

The bushy haired girl blushed. "No," she said, looking away. "Although it would do _you_ some good, Ron."

Neville grinned; it was amusing watching these two bicker. It went on for a long time – Ron trying to teach Hermione the proper ways to tell a joke and to not be so stern all the time, while Hermione was trying to explain the many uses of the library to Ron. A lost cause, in both directions, if you asked Neville.

* * *

"Now," said Rabastan, "Lucius tells me that you've both successfully cast the Imperious Curse and thrown it off, correct?"

Draco and Harry grinned; that lesson had been hilarious. Harry and Draco had made each other do some of the weirdest and most random things: tap dancing on the desk while yodelling, proposing marriage to the wall, singing a song about how ducks are such wonderful animals, and scuttling around like a crab.

"Today, we're going to be doing the Cruciatus Curse – I understand that you took notes on this curse last time with Lucius."

Harry and Draco nodded, even though Rabastan hadn't posed a question.

Rabastan tipped over a glass jar and a spider slipped out. "Spiders are the most useful creatures to demonstrate these spells on, although they do need to be a bit larger." He pointed his wand at it and said, "_Engorgio_." The spider instantly grew to about the size of a potato, its pincers elongated and its eyes huge.

Rabastan then said, in a very determined voice, "_Crucio_."

Almost immediately, the spider's legs crumpled to its body; it started to twitch terribly, writhing in unimaginable agony.

Draco and Harry watched, stone faced as Rabastan held the torture curse for what seemed like ever. It wasn't amusing, the Cruciatus Curse. Not at all.

Rabastan raised his wand, cancelling the spell. The spider relaxed, though it continued to shudder every so often.

"The Cruciatus Curse is a favourite form of torture," he said, almost breezily, as if talking about the weather. "The Muggles use crude devices – but why would wizards need to do that when we have the Cruciatus?"

It was a rhetorical question, so the boys didn't respond. Both were still staring at the spider, which was still twitching, not even trying to move any more than that.

"Henry," said Rabastan suddenly. "You're up first. Cruciate the spider."

Harry paled. "Now?"

Rabastan nodded. Casting an uneasy glance to Draco, Harry stood and pointed his wand at the spider. The spider was edging slowly to the side of the desk, but Harry knew it wouldn't get there.

"Now, boys," said Rabastan, "I don't expect you to fully Cruciate the spider the first time you try. But, once you have become more advanced at casting the curse, the Dark Lord may even grant you the opportunity to practice on some of his prisoners."

Draco and Harry exchanged intrigued looks – to be the ones to administer punishment to the Dark Lord's prisoners' was an honour.

Harry took a deep breath and pointed his wand at the spider. "_Crucio_," he said.

The spider twitched, but that was about all.

Looking extremely disappointed, Harry lowered his wand, but Rabastan shook his head. "That was very good for a first try, Henry, but you really have to _mean_ the curse! Imagine that this spider is ..." here Rabastan paused, and then his eyes lit up, "Sirius Black. Imagine that this spider is Black, the man who burned down the Dark Lord's home –"

Rabastan continued to list Sirius' offences, but Harry wasn't listening to him. He thought of the man who had accused Harry of being Harry Potter. He shook his head angrily; he wasn't some filthy half-blood, the son of some bastard who had fired a spell at an innocent (okay, almost innocent) child, who had been dead for ten years.

Rabastan was still talking, but Harry pointed his wand at the spider and said, in a clear, cold tone, "_Crucio_."

The spider rolled into a ball and start to rock back and forth, shuddering heavily. Harry watched with a satisfied expression for a few moments before lifting the curse.

"Very good!" said Rabastan, who looked impressed.

Harry grinned with the praise and returned to his seat.

It was then Draco's turn, who struggled with the curse. It took him several tries to have the spider show any sort of pain, but when he finally got it to curl in on itself, Draco was immensely pleased with himself.

After that, Rabastan had them practice the Cruciatus curse some more, alternating the times. Finally, the spider stopped twitching when the curse was cast on it – it was dead.

Rabastan was reaching into the next jar for a new spider when he suddenly jerked and grasped his arm. "We'll continue this another day, boys. Oh, yes, Henry, your essay is due to me by Thursday." He brushed the spider to the floor and dismissed the boys from the lesson, exiting from the room before the boys even had the chance to blink.

Draco and Harry gathered their books up, Harry purposefully shoving Draco's off the desk as he stood.

"What the hell was that for?" Draco demanded, staring down at his scattered papers.

Harry shrugged. "You made me have to write an essay. You deserved it."

Draco gaped at him. "You made me fall from 50 feet in the air, Harry! You deserved the essay."

"No, I didn't!" said Harry, hotly. "My mother is going to give me a punishment for that; on top of this stupid essay now!"

Draco paused picking up his books. "Oh," he said, grinning sheepishly. "I must've missed Aunt Bella say that. Woops."

Harry shot him a dark look, but then brightened. "You can make it up to me by writing my essay!"

Draco snorted. "I'll help you, but I'm not writing the _whole_ thing for you."

"Okay," said Harry, grinning. If he slacked off enough, Draco would end up doing it all; he always did. "So, when I'm at dinner tonight with Mother and the Dark Lord, you can start on the essay."

Draco sighed. "Fine," he grumbled. "But I'm only writing the introduction!"

* * *

"Oi, Potter!" shouted John Dawlish, peering his head out of his cubicle to call to James as he passed. Dawlish was tough man who was one of James' coworkers at the Auror Office. They weren't on excellent terms: what made their relationship even more strained was the fact that Dawlish had just gotten the promotion that James had been after for a few months.

"Yeah?" asked James, pausing and turning around to face the man with wiry grey hair. "What is it?"

Dawlish said in his gruff voice, "You tell Black that he has to clear out his desk by tomorrow night or I'm tossing the whole lot!"

James turned away, not answering Dawlish. After the escape from Voldemort two months ago, Sirius had gone into hiding – he'd returned for one day of work and then told everyone he was off for an extended vacation. Now that his vacation time had been used up (it had run out a week ago, actually) the head of the Auror office, Rufus Scrimgeour had fired him and given the task of getting Sirius to clear out his desk to Dawlish, his new assistant.

"Potter! Potter!" roared Dawlish, but James ignored him. "Fine! You tell him I'm going to toss it right now!"

He wouldn't though, not until tomorrow night when he said he would. James would collect all of Sirius' things this evening before he left for home.

Once he reached his own cubicle, James tossed down the packet of papers he was carrying and sat down at his desk, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes.

It wasn't the same coming to work without Sirius – they had decided to take Auror positions together while still in Hogwarts, but had instead joined the Order of the Phoenix as full time fighters against Voldemort.

But, after James' son Harry was murdered ... well, he and Sirius had been to broken hearted to do any real fighting and so they'd joined the Auror office. It was still a deadly job, but at least some times you were safe sitting in the Ministry, rather than out fighting with Death Eaters.

They had remained with the Order, but not full time anymore. Lily hadn't either – she'd mostly stayed home with Jason, but sometimes helped out at a Potions shop in Diagon Alley when her friend who worked there needed some help. Lily was exceptionally good at Potions, often helping the Marauders (excluding Remus who didn't need help) in their 7th year of Hogwarts (when Lily had finally gotten on good terms with the Marauders). Peter, especially had needed her help.

James' fists automatically clenched at the thought of Peter Pettigrew. None of the remaining Marauders had heard from Wormtail since the night Harry was murdered; James, Remus and Sirius were all determined to kill him if he ever appeared again.

It had been a lesson to James: not everyone can be trusted. He'd known Peter since he was eleven, shared a dorm room with him, had regarded him as one of the closest friends James would ever have, and to top it off – had trusted him with the secret that evidently led to Harry's murder.

And it was because of this man, this _rat_ that Harry was dead. It was because of Pettigrew that Harry was lying cold in the ground, rather than at Hogwarts where he would be right now. James looked at his watch – nine thirty. Harry would be in class right now, learning magic.

He looked up to the bulletin board that hung over his desk. Pictures of wanted wizards were on one side, but on the other James had pictures of his family. Jason and Lily were well represented, as were Sirius and Remus. But the best represented was Harry; all the baby pictures that James had had, he'd placed up on the board. There was Harry roaring with laughter, zooming in and out of a picture on a little toy broom, with James running after him and Lily watching fondly. There was another of when Harry had been brought home from St Mungo's, two days after he'd been born. He was dozing in his crib, rolling over every so often.

Looking away pointedly, his hazel eyes flickered to the side of wanted wizards and witches. Bellatrix Lestrange's face leered out at him from a WANTED picture, her hooded eyes almost cackling with madness.

If there was anyone he hated more than Voldemort and Peter, it was her. She was the one who took Harry's life – it was by her hand that his son wasn't with him anymore.

James shook his head and slid the papers out of the package – time to get to work. No sense living in the past.

His assignment for the day? Record last known locations of Death Eater, Bellatrix Lestrange. James didn't appreciate the irony.

* * *

Sirius had decided that being locked up at home was boring and so had left for the Ministry, off to bother James who was working today.

He already knew he was fired; he'd received a Howler from Scrimgeour when he hadn't shown up for work after his 'vacation' was over.

Sirius headed for the Auror Office on the second floor, ducking as Dawlish went storming by, and down the hall to where James' cubicle was.

Prongs was bent over some pieces of parchment, scribbling fast with a quill.

"Potter!" said Sirius loudly, making James jump.

"What?" snapped James, whirling around.

His face was annoyed, but then his jaw dropped in astonishment.

"Padfoot?" said James, bewildered. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Sirius shrugged. "I got bored and so I decided to show up for work. But then I remembered I was fired, so I came to visit you."

James shook his head. "You shouldn't be here, Sirius. You know Voldemort has spies in the Ministry."

Shrugging, Sirius said, "Yeah, but I was bored. Besides, I'm probably safer here than at home."

James sighed and turned back to his desk. "I've got work to do, Sirius. Dawlish wants this report on Bellatrix Lestrange by the end of the day and I've barely even started."

At the mention of Bellatrix's name, Sirius clenched his jaw in anger. Now, in addition to hearing her name and linking her immediately with Harry's murder, Sirius also saw her son: the boy who so resembled Harry.

He hadn't told James or Lily about the boy; after all, why would he give them false hope? Even though he had accepted that Henry wasn't Harry before the Order had arrived and rescued him, Sirius wasn't sure anymore, now that he'd had the time to think about it.

When James had been there, rescuing Sirius, Sirius had been able to see Henry Lestrange's face in close proximity to James's. Almost identical.

However, James was cousins, something like 2nd cousins, with Bellatrix's dead husband, Rodolphus, and so ... well it wouldn't be uncommon for their family to share similar facial structure. And, after all, the boy had black eyes – not Lily's emerald.

Sirius shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. If, by some miracle, that boy turned out to be their Harry, Sirius wasn't sure that Harry Potter even existed in that boy's mind anymore; he was a Lestrange through and through.

* * *

When Harry knocked on his mother's suite that evening, at just after seven o'clock, she swung the door open, hissing, "You're late!"

"No," argued Harry. "I'm just on time."

Bellatrix looked behind her at a clock on the mantle and sighed loudly. "Come along then. You look lovely tonight, darling."

"Uh, thanks," said Harry. He followed his mother down the stairs, out of the smaller manor, and into the larger manor. Harry had only been in here for meals and never journeyed past the oak doors that led to the dining hall.

Bellatrix strode right past the doors, down a long hallway, with an emerald rug running the length of it. A door just at the end of the hall was slightly open, the flickering light from a fire inside spilling out into the hall.

"Come along, Henry," said Bellatrix, pushing the door open once they'd reached it. Harry went it and after Bellatrix had also entered, shoving Harry forward and out of her way, she shut the door.

They were in a large dining room, one with about fifty chairs around a long narrow table. The room was lit by three fireplaces, each roaring with orange flames. Huge windows that reminded Harry of medieval arrow slots (although much larger) lined the walls, each with two emerald curtains hanging open to reveal the bright moon, surrounded by thousands of flickering stars.

Harry had never been in here before; it was the most extravagant dining room he'd even seen.

At the other end of the long table sat the Dark Lord. He was frowning at a piece of parchment in his hands and hadn't even glanced up as the door opened, but just gestured with his hand that Bellatrix and Harry were to take the seats directly beside him on both sides.

Bellatrix quickly took the right hand seat, smiling intensely at the Dark Lord. Harry walked to his seat slower and sat down long after Bellatrix had.

Voldemort put the piece of parchment down and smiled at Bellatrix and Harry. His smile held no warmth and it made Harry want to shiver with cold at the mere sight of it.

The Dark Lord motioned with his hand and suddenly three house-elves appeared, each trembling with fear as they placed plates full of steaming food down before Voldemort, Bellatrix and Harry.

It looked delicious. Harry was dying to dig in, as he and Draco had skipped lunch for their race, but he knew that he was only allowed to begin once Voldemort had.

Voldemort motioned for Bellatrix and Harry to begin eating and so they did. They didn't talk during the meal, but when everyone had finished, Voldemort snapped his fingers and the plates instantly disappeared.

Voldemort turned to Harry and said, "I hear you almost murdered your cousin today."

Harry flushed. "It was an accident," he said. "I just wanted to win the race –" He was very aware of how pathetic that sounded, but he didn't know what else to say.

"You made Draco fall from fifty feet, Henry!" hissed Bellatrix, her knuckles almost white from clutching the table so tight in anger. "You could've killed him!"

Harry opened his mouth, but Voldemort cut across him.

"The Hurling Hex?" he questioned, smiling slightly. Instantly, Bellatrix turned her glare at Harry to a dazzling smile at the Dark Lord. "Very good, Henry." Bellatrix beamed at Harry, who himself smiled at the praise.

"That's advanced magic," Voldemort was saying. "When I attended Hogwarts, you would not learn that until sixth year, but I assume that Dumbledore would have not allowed that spell to be taught." He rolled his eyes at Bellatrix, who shook her head in disgust.

"He's an idiot, Dumbledore is," said Bellatrix, as if that settled the matter.

"Why wouldn't he teach that hex?" asked Harry, surprised.

Voldemort's eyes gleamed maliciously. "That old _fool_ –"he spat the word –"only teaches the students how to _defend_ attacks and not cast them."

"Really?" said Harry, appalled. "That's stupid – if they don't know how to _fight _... how does Dumbledore even expect to win?" He was astonished; no wonder James Potter had shot the Stunner at Harry – he didn't know any Dark curses!

Voldemort seemed able to read Harry's mind; he smiled cruelly. "They cannot win, Henry. It is a pipe dream – a dream of Mudbloods and blood traitors."

The Dark Lord pushed his chair back and got to his feet, strolling to one of the large window and looking out. Bellatrix and Harry remained in their seats; Bellatrix twisted around in hers to face Voldemort.

"Defence Against the Dark Arts," the Dark Lord said softly, looking out the window with a faraway expression. "_Defence Against the Dark Arts_. What good is that if you cannot battle your opponents?"

Harry was aghast; he hadn't known that Hogwarts, the school where all of his family had attended, was so lacking in education.

"How do you learn the Dark Arts then?" asked Harry. "If Hogwarts doesn't teach it?"

Voldemort sighed and turned back to face Harry and Bellatrix, his jaw set with purpose. "You learn it, Henry. You learn it yourself; I did after I left Hogwarts; even while I was at the school I studied the Dark Arts; right under Dumbledore's nose and he never suspected anything. I taught the first Death Eaters the basics of what I had learned and they taught the newest ones." He paused. "Why do you think you do not attend Hogwarts? It is not just because you would be under Dumbledore's watchful eye, but because you learn _nothing_, nothing of importance there. Cheering Charms, how to transfigure a hedgehog into a pincushion – when will you ever need to use that in real life?"

"Never," murmured Bellatrix quietly, but Voldemort ignored her.

"The Dark Arts – they are a beautiful thing, Henry. I would not be where I am now if I didn't use them." He moved back to the table and sat in his seat. The three of them all sat in silence for a few moments, reflecting on Voldemort's words.

"I would like to learn them," said Harry, suddenly. "The Dark Arts. I've learned the Unforgivables with Uncle Lucius already, but ... everyone knows those ones. What are the other ones? The ... err, darker ones?"

Voldemort's snakelike face slowly eased into a cruel smile. "There are many curses that are considered Dark Arts," he said thoughtfully. "If you hadn't just proved that you are able to cast Advanced magic, I would say that it would be far beyond your reach, but you have proven it ... but even so, they would take an enormous amount of dedication to learn."

"I want to learn them," said Harry firmly.

Voldemort's smile deepened. Bellatrix looked extremely pleased with her son. "You will, Henry," Voldemort promised. "And learn to use them as well. In fact ... I don't think Draco is ready to study this magic; you will be taught individually."

"Really?" said Harry, a little less excited now that Draco wouldn't be learning with him.

The Dark Lord nodded. "Draco is a clever boy, but I don't think he has the drive to learn the Dark Arts like you do, Henry. When you have completed all of your lessons about spells that your regular classes offer, come see me and if I am not busy, Lord Voldemort himself will teach you."

All of Harry's disappointment about Draco disappeared in a moment. Voldemort himself would be teaching him Dark Arts!

"Okay," agreed Harry eagerly. "I will."

Voldemort nodded and turned to Bellatrix, who was positively beaming with pride that her very own son would be taught by the Dark Lord, and said, "Now, Bella, didn't you say you had something to discuss with me?"

Bellatrix nodded and her eyes hardened. "I was wondering about your opinion for a punishment for Henry, my lord, for almost killing Draco."

"Oh?" said Voldemort, looking over to Harry with an amused expression. "What kind of punishment did you have in mind, Bella?"

Bellatrix opened her mouth, but Harry quickly spoke up. "About that punishment, Mother ... Uncle Rabastan already gave me an essay for being late to class – isn't that enough?"

Bellatrix, who was looking annoyed that Harry had interrupted her, just snorted. "An essay? That is barely homework, let alone punishment."

Harry scowled; he'd expected a response like that. Bellatrix's favourite pastime, when she was the one teaching Draco and Harry, was to assign as many essays as she could.

She turned back to Voldemort and said, "I was thinking something about cleaning – my mother always made me clean the dirtiest rooms when I was mean to my sisters. She thought that if I cleaned, my behaviour would be nicer." Bellatrix snorted again.

"That didn't work out too well," murmured Voldemort, stroking his chin absently. "You are very cruel, Bellatrix, but that idea is one of your weaker ones; I don't think that particular sort of punishment would cleanse Henry of anything."

Bellatrix nodded and said, in a reverent voice, "That's why I could like your opinion, my lord."

Voldemort didn't say anything for a while but then sighed and looked up to the ceiling. "I would not punish Henry for this, Bella," said Voldemort. "After all, it is in his blood to be cruel; in comparison of what you have done in your life, Henry is innocent."

Bellatrix couldn't hide her displeasure that Voldemort had basically gotten Harry of the hook. Harry was grinning broadly and Voldemort himself had a faint smile on his face, as if he knew how much this would bother Bellatrix.

"You may leave if you wish, Henry," said Voldemort. "I know that you're anxious to begin that essay your uncle left you."

Harry smiled. "Very anxious, sir," he said, recognizing the dismissal and getting to his feet. Remembering his manners, he said, "Thank you for dinner, my lord. It was very good."

After Harry had left the room, Voldemort's eyes flickered to Bellatrix, who was still silently fuming.

"Just think, Bella," he said, thoughtfully, "If Henry is willing to hex his own cousin just to win a race, think of what he will do to his enemies. He will turn out to be very useful in this war."

* * *

A/N: So, what did you think? Next chapter will have Harry learning the Dark Arts, taught by Voldie himself! I'm excited, just thinking about it!

Review, please!


	7. The Dark Arts

* * *

A/N: Thanks for all the cool reviews! It really means a lot to me to know that you all really enjoy the story!!!

This one has a time skip, but I've marked it where it occurs. There is a duel in this chapter, and there are some spells that I've invented for the use of this story so if you don't recognize it that's why.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to the wonderful JK Rowling.

**Chapter Seven – The Dark Arts **

Draco was furious. Harry had just returned to their room after having dinner and had bragged about being taught the Dark Arts by Voldemort himself almost as soon as he'd entered.

As expected, Draco was livid about not being taught as well. "That's not fair!" he complained, sitting on the edge of his bed and looking miserable. "He's always favouring you, Harry," he added, his tone incredibly bitter.

Harry was barely paying attention to his cousin. He was finishing off Rabastan's essay; Draco had written most of it, but as soon as Harry had returned, he'd stopped and refused to write another word. "What do you want me to do about it, Draco?" snapped Harry, hurriedly scrawling the last dregs of his essay, "The Dark Lord offered the lessons to me, not to you. I couldn't argue with him."

Draco didn't respond, just fell back on the bed and sighed loudly. "Did he say if he would ever teach me?"

Harry didn't answer; he continued to write and when he'd finished writing, he said, in a satisfied tone, "Done!"

"Harry," said Draco, pointedly. "Did the Dark Lord say anything about ever teaching _me_ the Dark Arts?"

Sighing loudly, Harry flopped down on his own bed, lying on his back. "No, he didn't."

"But why not?" demanded Draco, sitting straight up and looking furious. "I deserve to learn them too! I'm just as smart as you, smarter, I think ... it's so unfair!"

"I know, mate," said Harry, consolingly, though he was really thinking about when he'd be ready to learn the Dark Arts. Voldemort had said that he had to complete most spells in his regular lessons – well, that would be easy. They were already learning spells that students would learn in their sixth year of Hogwarts.

Draco stood up from his bed and gave Harry a very dark look; for the first time, Harry could see something in them almost like ... was that jealously?

Harry sat up and said, "Draco ... are you _jealous_?"

Draco just gave Harry a scathing look and didn't reply. He walked over to his desk and sat down, fuming.

Harry had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. "Come on, Draco. There's nothing to be jealous about!"

The blond haired boy didn't even respond.

"This is stupid," muttered Harry, crossing his arms and staring up at the ceiling.

"Oh, really?" snapped Draco, standing up from the desk, toppling the chair over with a loud smack as it hit the floor. "I'm always second best to you, Henry –"

Harry jerked in surprise – Draco only called him Henry was he was very angry. Harry sat up, now paying closer attention to what his cousin was saying.

Harry had never seen Draco look so angry. He had started to pace and kept running a hand through his hair, agitated. "–always second best, you're always put ahead of me ... the Dark Lord likes you better because you're Auntie Bella's kid –"

"Draco –"

Draco barrelled right over Harry. He said, in a very high, mocking voice, "Oh, Henry, you're so _brilliant_; you are so amazing at flying, you're worthy enough to learn the Dark Arts – Draco, however, you're stupid, don't even try to fly because you're bloody horrible at it –"

"No one has ever said that, Draco!" said Harry, talking loudly but Draco still ignored him.

"What's that, Draco? You want to learn the Dark Arts too? Well, that's too bad; only perfect Henry is allowed –"

"Well, I'm sorry!" shouted Harry, also standing. "I'm sorry I'm better at everything than you!"

An uneasy silence fell over the room. Draco stopped his pacing and turned to look at Harry, his expression unreadable. Harry felt a little guilty for saying that, it wasn't true but in Draco's eyes it appeared to be like it was.

Both boys stared at each other for a long time, both refusing to look away or blink. Harry's eyes started to sting and water, but he ignored it.

Finally, Draco said, his voice like ice, "You just wait, Henry – one day, you won't be the Dark Lord's favourite anymore."

Harry thought about arguing the point that he wasn't Voldemort's favourite, but Draco had already strode to his desk, picking up the fallen chair as he did so. He sat down in it and pointedly ignored looking at Harry for the rest of the evening.

* * *

The two boys remained cool and moody with each other for a few weeks; so much so that even the Dark Lord noticed their distance.

Christmas came and went, and the boys exchanged rather pathetic presents; Draco got Harry a half eaten bar of Honeydukes chocolate and Harry got Draco the Famous Witches and Wizards cards that Harry fully knew Draco had doubles of.

Harry received a new cloak from Rabastan and a special wand cleaning kit from Narcissa and Lucius. From his mother, he received a brand new chess set, as well as a set of Gobstones and all types of candy.

It was the middle of January and Voldemort hadn't started to teach Harry the Dark Arts yet. But, since Draco and Harry weren't speaking and there were no other children at Thistle Estates to hang out with, Harry did the only thing he could do to pass the time: study.

It was very boring to do nothing but work, even if the light at the end of the tunnel was learning the Dark Arts from the Dark Lord himself.

Studying had been the last resort for Harry, but yet here he was. It was too cold outside to fly around on his broomstick and exploring Thistle Estates was hardly as much fun without Draco.

Speaking of Draco, he was refusing to speak to Harry; he'd only said a handful of words to him since their fight. Seeing as Harry hadn't been the one to start the fight, in his opinion anyways, he refused to be the first to apologize and so both boys were lonely and miserable.

Draco didn't seem to be as affected by their separation as Harry was – Draco had also thrown himself into his studies, determined, Harry supposed, to prove himself as worthy to learn magic from the Dark Lord as well. And besides that, Draco was also friendly with a few other Death Eater children – Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle and Pansy Parkinson – and he'd been exchanging letters with them. Harry didn't have any other real friends except Draco – he'd met Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy before but found them seriously annoying and boring. Bellatrix wasn't the type to take him out to meet new kids so Harry had only ever had his cousin for a friend.

Harry hadn't really noticed how attached he'd been to Draco, but he sure did once their relationship was gone. He missed his cousin; life at Thistle Estates had gotten quite dull with the two boys not speaking.

The morning after Draco had exploded at Harry, Harry had thought that the whole argument would blow over. However, Draco had a different idea. He'd risen and eaten breakfast before Harry had even stirred in his bed and had ignored him the whole day at lessons.

So, like Draco, Harry had resorted to school work. The only good thing that Harry could see about studying harder was the Dark Arts lessons that were fast approaching.

Rabastan and Bellatrix, who were the main teachers these days, were teaching the boys all about spells. Harry had lost track of what level they were on now, but he assumed that students who attended Hogwarts would learn what they were learning in their fifth year, if not the sixth.

Rabastan and Bellatrix had both noticed Draco and Harry's fight, but could care less. Rabastan had said nothing about it, but Bellatrix had commented that they were both being idiots, but other than that had ignored their fight all together. She still treated them as if they were best friends.

Draco's parents had only visited once after the fight, and Lucius hadn't noticed a thing out of place – not even the broken broom. Narcissa, however, knew both boys much better than her husband and was immediately suspicious when she'd seen Harry and Draco, sitting on opposite sides of Bellatrix at dinner, However, probably from the looks that both Harry and Draco had been sending her, she had said nothing about it.

The next day, Harry and Draco were the only ones around to see Narcissa off. Lucius and Bellatrix weren't around – they'd gone out to murder Muggles for fun; Harry suspected that they had bet each other several Galleons on who could kill the most.

Draco stood stonily beside Harry after he received his hug goodbye from Narcissa.

"Goodbye, Harry," said Narcissa, hugging her nephew tightly. She whispered into his ear, "Whatever has gotten you and Draco into this fight, forget about it. Don't let one little argument ruin your friendship – after all, you are family."

And so after that Harry felt guilty, but not guilty enough to apologize to Draco first.

The next morning, they trudged off to lessons in silence, as was the usual these days. As Rabastan was out, Bellatrix was their teacher for the day. She was in a foul mood – apparently Lucius had beaten her in their bet yesterday; she was being especially rude to Draco, who in turn got more and more frustrated every time she exploded at him.

Even though it was the middle of January, Bellatrix and the boys, all bundled up in warm clothing, headed out to the Thistle Estates grounds, as the classroom wasn't big enough to practice in.

"What are we doing?" asked Harry, his teeth chattering.

"Duelling," she said shortly. "You two are fighting against each other."

Marvellous, thought Harry darkly, noting the satisfied smirk on his cousin's face. It was obvious Draco loved the idea of being able to duel Harry.

"The only rule is that, for today, no Unforgivables, even though I think that is a silly rule, but Narcissa insisted ..." Bellatrix sighed loudly. "Oh and Henry, if you win, the Dark Lord has agreed to start your lessons on the Dark Arts immediately," she added.

Harry's grip tightened on the wand just at that; he was now determined to win. From the corner of his eye, he noticed that Draco looked even more determined than Harry did.

Bellatrix stepped out of the way and Draco and Harry turned to each other. They were unsure of what to do, and stood there a little unsurely with their wands pointed at each other, but when Bellatrix yawned pointedly, Harry shot a Cutting Hex at Draco. He hollered as the hex hit his arm, ripping his robes. The blood had barely begun to flow before it froze solid.

Looking furious, Draco shouted, "_Confringo_!"

A strong force hit Harry in the chest and he was sent catapulting backwards, landing in a large pile of snow that chilled him to the bone.

Teeth chattering even worse now, Harry pointed his wand at Draco and yelled, "_Incendio_!"

A wave of fire flew at Draco, melting the snow that it flew over as it went. Draco threw up a Shield, but it wasn't nearly strong enough to block Harry's wave of fire. It scorched the front of his robes, but Draco kept his cool and said loudly, "_Aguamenti_!" putting the fire out with a stream of water that, thankfully for Draco, didn't freeze right away.

In the meantime, Harry had scrambled to his feet but before he could utter another spell, Draco shouted, "_Decursus_!" This was another type of Blasting Curse and it sent Harry reeling and he back flipped over another bank of snow.

Bellatrix had shouted a cry, but Harry realized it wasn't fear for him. "Decursus?" she said, looking momentarily shocked and then pleased. "Very advanced magic, Draco! Brilliant –"

But she was cut off as Harry, having regained his balance and now furious, yelled, "_Locomotor Mortis_!"

Draco's legs were locked together suddenly and he yelped in alarm as he lost his balance and fell flat over. However, Draco was still able to fire off a spell at Harry, although he had to twist into a very funny position on the ground to do so. "_Expelliarmus_!" The red jet of light hit Harry's arm and his wand was wrenched from his grip, making Harry roar in anger.

Draco, grinning broadly, caught the wand and then used his own to counter the Leg-Locker Curse and jumped to his feet.

Harry felt incredibly ashamed of himself, but reluctantly put his hands up in surrender. He briefly considered going over there and punching Draco, but didn't get the chance because Bellatrix started to clap, looking a mixture of impressed and annoyed.

"Very good, Draco," she said, smiling at her nephew. She looked to Harry and frowned. "You need to work on your shield and reaction time, Henry."

They'd just entered the Manor when a cold voice made them both jump out of their skins. "Congratulations, Malfoy."

They whirled around to see the Dark Lord standing there, looking amused. At their bewildered looks to what he was doing in the Death Eater manor, he said, "Bellatrix informed me that you two would be duelling today and invited me to watch. I am very impressed with the both of you, but especially you, Draco. You exceeded my expectations, for I believed that Henry would be the one to win." Draco flushed at Voldemort's praise. "You're welcome to join us for the Dark Arts lessons, which will be starting on February 4th, by the way."

"Really?" said Draco, his mouth hanging open and looking astonished. "T-thank you!"

"You've proved yourself an excellent dueller," said Voldemort, already heading for the door, "A good skill that will aid you when you join the Death Eaters."

And with that, he swept from the manor, making a blast of cold air enter the manor and then leave as the door shut again.

Almost immediately, Draco, in his excitement, hit Harry hard on the shoulder. "He's letting me learn the Dark Arts too!"

"I heard him," Harry snapped. He was still sore from being beaten.

Draco's grin faded a little bit and he said, quietly, "Come on, Harry. We're even now; we've both impressed the Dark Lord."

Draco looked so put out that Harry wasn't happy for him being invited to learn the Dark Arts too, that Harry pretended to be happy. And, after a few minutes of normal conversation with his cousin, he almost lost all of his anger. Almost.

They would never be the same, Harry realized suddenly. Something had broken in their friendship because of this one, insignificant fight.

* * *

After Neville had returned from his Christmas break, the workload at Hogwarts seemed to increase. It was all rather basic magic, but still Neville struggled with it.

He and Ron were working in the Common Room one evening on a particularly nasty essay for History of Magic. Their other acquaintance, Hermione, was also working nearby, but hadn't offered any help to the two boys, a fact that Ron was bitterly muttering about.

Hermione was still friendly with Ron and Neville, but she seemed to prefer to work by herself most of the time and she was a little cooler to them than usual. She did still help them, but it was less frequently than she used to. She seemed to have finally clicked that Ron wasn't that fond of her and so had decided to keep her distance.

Neville didn't know why, but he suspected that when Ron had been talking loudly about how Hermione was such an annoyance, she'd heard him. It had been since that incident that she'd become more withdrawn and looked lonelier than ever.

He felt rather bad, but did nothing to try to fix the situation. He had enough on his plate as it was already.

* * *

Draco was extremely pleased with himself for the next few days and Harry was about to whack him soon if he didn't shut up.

The entirety of Death Eaters had returned to Riddle Manor just two days previously and everyone was still adjusting to the change.

It was February the 3rd and Harry and Draco were eating very little for dinner as both were extremely nervous. The Dark Lord had told them to meet him at the school room at ten o'clock the next morning and they could tell that if they were even a moment late, he'd revoke his promise to teach them.

Bellatrix finished her dinner and started to stride towards the door. She stopped at where Draco and Harry were sitting and patted Harry's head, not very gently but as it was one of her rare affectionate gestures, Harry took it to mean that she really was trying to be nice.

"Good luck tomorrow," she said, giving him a genuine smile before heading out of the room.

Harry let out a small smile and soon after that, he and Draco headed off to bed.

Draco had fallen asleep a long time ago, but Harry was having a tough time of it. He must've been lying in his bed for at least two hours when the door to his room slowly creeped open.

He instantly froze mid roll over and pretended to be asleep. A few moments later, a cool hand caressed his forehead and then, even without opening his eyes, he could sense a wand was pointed at him. Before he could begin to panic, he heard Bellatrix's voice murmur, "_Dissimulo_."

A very weird sensation then happened to Harry. He felt as if something slimy was crawling over his eyeballs, even though they were protected by his eyelids. After the slimy sensation ceased, his eyes felt as if they were bubbling and rippling for a few more moments before that too stopped.

He heard Bellatrix's footsteps start to leave and so, before he lost his nerve, called out, "Mother? What did you do to me?"

Bellatrix didn't even stop, just said, rather snappishly, "Go to sleep, Henry."

* * *

The next morning, Harry woke up and felt very unnerved. He cornered Bellatrix immediately at breakfast.

"What did you do to my eyes?" he demanded.

Bellatrix sighed loudly. "It's nothing really, Henry. Don't worry about it." When Harry persisted in giving her the death glare, she added, "You know you needed glasses when you were younger, correct?" Harry nodded. "Well, this spell has to be performed every few months just to keep the original correction spell in place."

"Oh," said Harry, satisfied with her answer.

Bellatrix smiled, looking a little relieved, and continued to eat her breakfast.

When it came time to go, Harry set off to the classroom with Draco. The room was empty when they arrived, but just moments later Voldemort arrived. He was wearing his usual black robes, his red eyes gleaming maliciously for no particular reason.

He entered the room and the door shut behind him all of its own accord. "Take out your wands," said the Dark Lord, drawing his wand.

Eagerly, both Harry and Draco took their wands out of their robes and stood quietly, keen for the lessons to begin.

"The first lesson in learning the Dark Arts," said the Dark Lord slowly, starting to pace in a circle around the room. "Is that to cast Dark magic, you must give yourself completely over to the Dark side. You must have no reservations about what you are about to do to get the most power from a spell. If even one remainder of doubt remains, the spell will not be as powerful. To begin, you will duel each other with the spells that you know," Voldemort said, flicking his wand at the two boys and they instantly were pushed apart from each other, about the proper distance for a duel.

This one was Harry's, he thought, his jaw twitching slightly as he clenched it tightly. He was going to win.

"In this first duel, you are allowed to use any time of magic that you have studied – I don't care if you use a Cheering Charm." Here, his mouth twitched, but it returned to impassive instantly. "Begin."

Harry looked away from Voldemort and while Draco was only just starting to look away, Harry yelled, "_Confringo_!" He hadn't even thought about what spell he was going to use as he was nervous about duelling in front of Voldemort himself. However, he thought smugly, it was Draco's turn to get blasted into something.

Draco yelped as the Blasting Curse hit him full on and he was thrown back into the air, landing hard against the wall. Groaning, and looking disoriented, he stumbled to his feet and said, "_Rictusempra!_"

The spell just barely missed Harry, who ducked. The white light hit one of the practice dummies behind Harry, who instantly started to roar with laughter.

It was very unnerving having a lifeless thing start to laugh at you, but Harry managed to cast a Stinging Hex at Draco, the orange sparks making Draco yelp and bring up a weak, grey and filmy shield.

Draco opened his mouth to shout back another spell, but Voldemort interrupted him.

"Stop," said Voldemort, waving his hand absently. The laughing dummy stopped laughing immediately and slumped over, once more an inanimate object.

Harry and Draco both stopped their duel and looked to Voldemort expectantly.

"A passable duel," drawled Voldemort. "Passable. But, we shall move on, nonetheless. Now, Draco, Bella tells me that you know the Decursus Curse?"

Draco nodded.

"Yes, that is excellent that you know that one already. And, Henry, you will have to work extra hard to learn that one as well."

Harry nodded, willing himself not to flush in embarrassment.

"For today," said Voldemort, "You will be learning the Tectum Curse. This curse is a shield that not only protects but rebounds the caster's curse onto them." Here he smirked. "It was I who invented this one."

"Really?" asked Draco, surprised.

"Yes," said Voldemort, still smirking. But his face slowly sunk into a frown. "However, it cannot block any of the Unforgivable Curses, nor a few other of the Dark Magic that you will learn later on. But, for use against the Order, who only use weak spells, it will do wonderfully."

He waved his wand once more and the boys were pulled by an invisible force to be side by side, a few feet away from each other.

"The incantation for this spell is Tectum," Voldemort said. "Henry – cast a spell on me."

"Uh, okay," said Harry. He drew his wand, and, very self consciously, said, "_Expelliarmus_!"

The red jet of light shot out of Harry's wand, but with lightening fast reflexes, Voldemort said, almost indolently, "_Tectum_."

The same, inky black bubble that had encased Bellatrix a few weeks ago burst up around Voldemort and as the red light hit it, it came rebounding back at Harry, whose wand was taken from him. The phoenix wand flew towards the black bubble and a pale white hand with long fingers shot out and caught it.

The inky bubble disappeared as Voldemort stepped out of it, twirling Harry's wand in his fingers. He was frowning slightly as he examined the wand, but just tossed it back to Harry without saying a word about it.

Voldemort had Draco try the same thing, although Draco used the Jelly-Legs Jinx instead. He wobbled around the room when the spell rebounded.

After each of the boys had tried their curses on Voldemort's shield a few more times, the Dark Lord had them practice on each other.

The first time Harry attempted to conjure the shield, he said the wrong spell and ended up with his fingers and toes glued together. However, Draco fared much better than his cousin; he made a small wisp of smoke appear and cover his body, however Harry's Bat-Bogey Hex still affected him.

Both were rather discouraged by this failure, but Voldemort didn't look as if he expected anything different. After several more tries, Harry was able to conjure a shield that could repel weak curses and Draco's was darker than the first time, but still barely blocked anything. Voldemort said that was progress and decided to move onto something else.

"This curse is called the Nellaf Hex – the incantation 'Occasum' will force your opponent or anything that is in your way, for instance that chalk board, to fall down. This one doesn't require as much strength that the Tectum Curse does and I'm sure that several members of the Order know this as well. However," he said, his voice rising at the disappointed looks on the boys faces, "it is a useful curse, albeit not particularly Dark." He pointed his wand at Draco and said, "_Occasum_."

Immediately, as if pushed by an invisible force, Draco fell to the ground, stumbling forward and wiping out completely.

Harry had to muffle a snicker, but before he knew it the same spell had been cast on him too. To Harry, it felt as if he had been shoved hard on his back, but there was also heavy pressure on his head that made him fall. The stone floor was very hard and Harry could already feel a bruise forming on his butt and thighs.

It wasn't funny anymore. Harry stumbled to his feet, groaning slightly just as Draco got to his feet.

Voldemort looked immensely amused and once both boys were standing, cast the curse on them again. This time, Harry was expecting it, but that didn't mean it was any nicer to fall onto the hard floor.

After they'd returned to standing again, Voldemort had set up two practice dummies, levitating them with his wand. "Use the curse and try to knock these down," he said.

Exchanging an amused look, Harry and Draco said, "_Occasum!_" Harry's dummy twitched violently, but did nothing much more than that. Draco's did nothing.

It continued like this for most of the lesson. Voldemort seemed to be getting more and more annoyed until finally ... "_Crucio_!"

Harry and Draco both fell to the ground, and screamed. This was the worst pain Harry had ever felt – his head was being cracked open, his limbs were being ripped from his body, his fingers and toes were on fire ... and then the Dark Lord lifted it.

He continued as if nothing had happened, although jerkily forcing Harry and Draco to their feet with a spell.

Voldemort would alternate between the spells he'd taught them today, but also the Decursus and the Sans Ciel Curses.

The Sans Ciel Curse was a particularly nasty one, that neither Harry nor Draco had been able to conjure. It was an instant mass of blackness that would encase your victim and suffocate them.

Their failure at learning to cast this made Voldemort cast the Cruciatus on them again and it hurt just as much as the first time.

Finally, at around three o'clock, both boys were extremely exhausted and Voldemort finally dismissed them, with strict instructions to master the Nellaf Hex, the Sans Ciel and the Tectum Curses, and, in Harry's case, the Decursus Curse.

Voldemort also assigned them the task of beginning to practice the Patronus Charm – he explained that while the Patronus was for protection, the spell that he was going to teach them was the opposite of a Patronus; it would require basic knowledge of the Patronus to even begin to learn.

So Harry and Draco trudged out of the room, both thoroughly exhausted. Today was Monday and they had exactly one week to learn all of the Dark Arts, not to mention complete all of their other studies. It was ridiculous.

* * *

A loud hoot of an owl woke Lily from a deep sleep and she jolted sharply, almost toppling out of bed as she did so.

The owl hooted again, as Lily hurried over to it, her eyes still blurry from sleep. A Hogwarts letter was attached to the leg, which confused Lily. She hadn't received a Hogwarts letter after she turned seventeen.

Curious, she untied the letter and the owl promptly flew off again. She broke the green wax seal and opened the letter.

As she read it, her eyes focused and her face started to creep into an ecstatic smile. Finally, she jumped up and down (very aware that she was acting like a teenager, but didn't quite care at the moment).

"James!" she screamed in excitement.

Her husband, who was still sleeping on the bed, shouted in alarm, rolled out of bed and fell flat on his face. "What is it?" he shouted, jumping to his feet. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing's wrong," she said hastily. "But, look! Dumbledore sent me this letter – Professor Flitwick wants to retire; he said it's too much to keep working now that his sister has passed away."

Professor Flitwick, who had been James and Lily's teacher at Hogwarts, had recently lost his twin sister to a very serious illness.

"Brilliant," James muttered, obviously not caring. He ran a hand through his hair and made to move back to the bed, but Lily grabbed his arm.

"Dumbledore asked me to be the new Charms teacher for next year! Me!"

James just blinked at her and then yelped in excitement. "That's excellent, Lily!" he exclaimed. "You've always wanted that job!"

Lily flushed with pleasure, no matter that that wasn't strictly true. She'd much rather prefer the job of teaching Potions, but just the opportunity to work at Hogwarts, the school she loved so much, was good enough for her.

"Wait –" said James, frowning. "You'll be gone for the whole year?"

Lily's excitement faded fast. "Oh," she said. "I suppose I will ..."

She sat down on the edge of the bed and James sat beside her. They sat in silence for a few minutes. It was an amazing opportunity ... but was it worth leaving James and Jason alone for a whole year? Jason was going to be starting Hogwarts in two years and if Lily took the job, it would be a year after she started teaching.

"You should go," said James firmly. "After all, no place is safer than Hogwarts."

Lily smiled weakly, though she felt no mirth at all. "Well, I can always come home on the weekends, of course. And I'm sure Dumbledore would allow you and Jason to visit often." She was trying to reassure herself more than James.

"Even if Dumbledore doesn't let us visit, which I sincerely doubt, I have my own ways of getting into the school," said James, smirking at some far off memory.

Lily sighed loudly and hit James lightly in the stomach. "Don't you dare."

"Mum?" said a voice from the doorway. "Dad? I heard a scream."

Lily and James turned to see Jason standing there, looking half asleep with tousled hair and ruffled pyjamas.

"Hey, Jace," James greeted. "That was just your mum – she got invited to Hogwarts and freaked out."

"What?" said Jason, bewildered, his eyes widening. "To Hogwarts – but Mum ... _what_?"

Lily sighed again and purposely stomped on James' foot as she stood up and walked over to her son. "Professor Dumbledore asked me to come next year and be the new Charms teacher."

Jason just gaped at her and then groaned and flopped over to the bed, burying his face in a pillow. "But, then you'll be there when I'm there!" he complained.

James had to hide his smirk from Lily, who was scowling at her son. "I won't embarrass you, Jason," she said, a little offended.

He didn't say anything, just looked up from the pillow to exchange a look with his dad. James coughed loudly to cover his laugh.

Now irritated, Lily sat back down on the bed and started to stroke Jason's hair absently. Jason got a very annoyed look on his face and tried to swat her away, but was unsuccessful.

"You know, Jason," said James, "If Mum was to go to Hogwarts next year that would mean that you and I get a whole year for guy time."

Jason cocked his head to the side. "Oh, yeah, that's true isn't it? Well ..."

"I'd come home on weekends, of course," said Lily hastily, not liking the mischievous look on Jason's face; he was much too like James for his own good. "And you and Dad could visit me whenever you wished – wouldn't you like to come to Hogwarts ahead of everyone else?"

The black haired boy sighed and shrugged. "Do you want to work there, Mum?"

Lily and James exchanged a look; it wasn't like Jason to ask what Lily wanted.

"I do," she admitted. "But, if you don't want me to leave, then I'd rather stay here with you and Dad."

Jason narrowed his eyes in thought. "It _is_ only a year ... and after that I'd be there with you –" His eyes widened in horror. "No! No, I don't want you to come! I've changed my mind – you'll embarrass me!"

James rolled his eyes and said, "Jason, it would actually be an advantage to have Mum there. She could help you with homework and if you do really badly on a test or something, she could just change the mark –"

"James!"

"I mean," said James, quickly, as Jason grinned, "she could always be there to help you."

"Well ..." said Jason, frowning. "I suppose ... but, you promise not to embarrass me, right?"

"I would never," said Lily, smiling happily.

James coughed again to cover his laugh and Jason cracked a smile. Rolling her eyes, Lily stood up and left the room, muttering, "Boys," as she went.

* * *

The following Monday, Harry and Draco had their second Dark Arts lesson. They'd studied so hard over the past week that Harry had huge, purple bags under his eyes from lack of sleep.

Voldemort seemed to be in a foul mood today and so that put the boys on edge even more than usual.

"Show me your Patronus Charms," Voldemort ordered. "You'll need to have mastered this for us to move on to the spell I want to teach you today."

This had been a hard Charm to learn – they had no Dementor to practice on, and had taken turns dressed in large cloaks and moaning and acting like a zombie. Draco had dissolved into a fit of giggles when Harry had done this, moaning and uttering complete nonsense words.

So when Voldemort made a motion with his wand and from the tip emerged a Dementor, Harry felt his stomach drop. The temperature in the room seemed to drop instantly and, somewhere in Harry's mind, he felt something hard pressing against his skull, as if a suppressed memory was trying to break free.

Draco whimpered and took an automatic step backwards.

The Dementor focused on Harry and started to glide towards Harry. He had seen Dementors before, but never so closely.

Breathing hard through his nose and focusing on the all the fun times he had with Draco, Harry shouted, "_Expecto Patronum_!"

A small puff of silver exploded from Harry's wand and a faint, silver wolf charged at the Dementor. It was small and just barely translucent.

Harry had been expecting a wolf – after all, Bellatrix had told him once that Rodolphus' Patronus had been a wolf as well.

The silver wolf ran to the Dementor, growling. However, it wasn't strong enough to totally defeat it.

Gritting his teeth and focusing hard on thinking of Bellatrix, Draco, Narcissa, Lucius and Rabastan, his family, and all the happy memories that Harry had had with all of them, Harry willed the wolf to get stronger. He added a special thought for Bellatrix, a time when she and Henry had gone on a weeklong vacation to Northern Ireland. It had been great fun and Harry had actually been able to relax and just spend time with his mother.

As Harry was thinking extra hard on these thoughts, the silver wolf gathered more shape and became much more opaque. It charged the Dementor, but unfortunately was still no match for it. It faded immediately in light of Harry's disappointment.

The coldness immediately returned to the room and the suppressed memory from earlier returned. He heard a faint voice shout something, then a different voice shout something with a flash of green light following their words.

Harry had no idea what that was about and the memory was still pressing against his skull, making it incredibly hard to focus.

Thankfully, Draco came to his rescue. "_Expecto Patronum_!" he shouted. A medium sized dragon burst out of his wand and charged the Dementor. It struck the creature hard, but not hard enough apparently.

Harry looked to Voldemort, desperately hoping the Dark Lord was going to vanquish the Dementor. However, no such luck.

"Come on, Henry, you try again!" Draco shouted.

Bracing himself and willing the memory will all the force he possessed, Harry thought about the happy memories again. "_Expecto Patronum_!" Harry bellowed and once more the wolf exploded from his wand. He waved it towards the Dementor and in a combined effort with the dragon, it sent it flying backwards

Voldemort waved his wand and the Dementor vanished.

"Good," he said simply as a way of congratulations. "This next spell I wish to teach you is the opposite of a Patronus – it uses the same form that your Patronus takes, but instead of use as a shield, it can be used as a weapon."

Draco and Harry exchanged intrigued looks, although Harry was still a little bewildered about the appearance of the random couple.

"This curse is called the Puteulinus Curse. The incantation is Everto Concrsus and to use this spell you must have considerable strength. Now, to summon this, you must not think happy thoughts, but what you wish to happen to the person – much like the Cruciatus."

Voldemort waved his wand and three rotating dummies appeared in the air, just barely hovering above the ground. Harry leaned forward and with a start realized that they were not, in fact, dummies, but motionless people.

"Are they real?" Draco asked, having just noticed as well.

Voldemort nodded. "Yes, but for the first few times, they will be asleep. Henry –" Harry jumped – "You're up first."

Harry stepped forward and looked at to the three people. They were all in their early twenties, two boys and one girl. They looked dead asleep.

"What's the incantation again?" Harry asked, a little nervously.

"Everto Concrsus," Voldemort said.

Harry nodded and pointed his wand up towards them. "_Everto Concrsus_," he said, trying to think of pain.

A small black wolf emerged from his wand, but disappeared in an instant without even going near the three.

"No, no, you're doing it wrong," Voldemort snapped. "I doubt you even thought of the pain you wanted to inflict on them."

"No, I did –"

"You know not to lie to me. _Crucio_!"

The curse hurt just as much as last time, and this time the pain lingered for a few seconds even after Voldemort lifted the curse.

Harry decided that this was the type of pain he wanted to wish upon people. He imagined all the pain that the Cruciatus Curse caused him onto the three rotating people.

"_Everto Concrsus_!" he shouted and the wolf this time erupted from his wand with such force that Harry almost stumbled backwards.

It ran straight up to the people and head butted them, sending the three of them sprawling, much like Muggle bowling pins. They all three woke up with a start and a shout.

"Where are we?" the tallest of the boys shouted.

Harry ignored them, just sent the wolf back in his direction. He screamed, as the wolf hit him, for that is when the most pain is inflicted, and collapsed onto the floor.

Harry did the same to the other two, both of whom lasted a little longer than their fallen friend.

The black wolf vanished as Harry lowered his wand, a small evil smile lifting his features. Draco looked slightly pale, but Voldemort looked incredibly pleased.

"Very good, Henry," he said. "Very good indeed."

* * *

_Three and a half years later_

The end of Jason's second year at Hogwarts was approaching rather fast and he was in no way prepared for his exams.

For Jason, last year's exams had been very hard and this year he expected them to be the same. Granted, he hadn't studied at all last year, but still.

The entire Gryffindor Common Room was still loud and rambunctious, even though the elder students who had been shouting for silence for a long time.

Jason and his friend Melinda were trying (and failing) to study for their Charms exam that would take place next Tuesday morning. Even though Jason's mother was the Charms teacher, that didn't mean much – in fact, Jason was sure she tested and marked him harder than anyone else in the class.

Jason had given up a while ago while Melinda was still working on Charms, her blond head bent over her illegible notes from throughout the year.

He was watching the Common Room to amuse himself. Neville Longbottom, who Jason knew rather well since their parents were friends, was working with a redheaded boy named Ron and both seemed to be struggling with what they were doing.

Jason watched as Ron cast a long look at the resident brain, Hermione Granger, who was sitting in a cozy armchair near the fireplace, reading her Transfiguration textbook. She was almost always alone and never acted like it bothered her, but Jason could tell that it did. He'd heard that she always had to work by herself in class, unless being in a group was absolutely necessary.

She glanced up, apparently feeling someone's eyes on her. Ron hurriedly looked back down to his parchment as Hermione glared at him.

Hermione stood up and left the Common Room a few minutes later, making Ron look up again at her.

Jason turned his attention to the Weasley twins. They were laughing loudly and trying to coax one of Jason's fellow second years into trying one of their candies. Shuddering slightly, Jason remembered what had happened when he had tried one of those candies. He had been in the Hospital Wing for two days with an unstoppable nosebleed.

Sighing rather dejectedly, Jason looked back to his parchment and decided it was time to get to work.

* * *

Harry's fifteen birthday, June the 22nd, passed uneventful, but that didn't stop Harry and Draco from celebrating it. They were both officially old enough to join the Death Eaters, at least, according to Voldemort.

Harry couldn't believe this was happening; his mother had positively squealed with delight when Harry had told her.

In fact, they'd been called to the Dark Lord's receiving chamber the day after Harry's birthday and were standing there at this moment, shaking slightly with anticipation.

It had been about three and a half years, roughly, since Harry and Draco had begun to learn the Dark Arts and were now (Harry noted with satisfaction) very capable of conjuring and inflicting Dark Magic. They'd even practiced on a few prisoners several times – it had been great fun.

In addition to all of the studies the boys were doing, and since so much physical strength was required to cast the Dark spells, they'd started to work out and were now very strong, something that Harry was secretly very proud of.

Currently, though, Voldemort was pacing the room. "I believe both of you are ready to join the Death Eaters," he said finally. It was an odd thing to see Voldemort smile and actually seem excited or anxious for something to happen.

Harry felt his stomach drop and he clenched his jaw to hold in his excitement. _This was it!_

"But first," said Voldemort, drawing his wand and pointing it at the two boys. "If you are to serve under me, you shall need my Mark."

Harry and Draco didn't even look at each other, just rolled their left sleeves up and exposed their forearms to the Dark Lord. This was the highest honour, and Harry had been gazing at his bare arm for several days now, wishing for the Mark.

Voldemort pressed his wand to Draco's forearm first – Draco flinched and bit his lip to stop from crying in pain as the Dark Mark was burned into his skin.

Harry watched with stony eyes; it was very interesting, seeing this tattoo be branded onto someone. The ink glided from Voldemort's wand smoothly and perfectly arranged itself in the Dark Mark on Draco's forearm. When the ink had all slithered into place and burned itself onto Draco's pale skin, Voldemort raised his wand, leaving Draco with a new tattoo and red, swollen skin around it.

"Henry," said Voldemort, turning to where Harry stood, his wand pointed at Harry. "Your turn."

* * *

Dun dun duh!

Next chapter should be up soon and just a quick warning about that one – it may appear that a traditional stereotype of Dark Harry fics will occur (I don't want to spoil it, but you'll know what I mean when you read it) but just remember how Harry acted when Sirius accused him of being Harry Potter in chapter 5. I want to **promise**all of you that my story isn't going to follow the traditional storylines, but I can't say much more or it'll be a spoiler.

As always please leave a review! I love to know what you think, especially about Harry becoming a Death Eater!!!


	8. The Hogwarts Express

A/N: I'm so so so sorry about the long update! I've been super busy all of October and most of the November that we've had so far. I'm on my school's swim team which practices 3 times a week in the mornings before school and I'm so exhausted by the time I get home from school, that I usually just fall right asleep after doing my homework. Speaking of homework, I've never had so much in my life – to give you all an idea of how much I've had, I had a drama essay due. That's right. Drama.

But alas, I forget that you've all just clicked on the link and want to read the chapter, and here I am boring you with my excuses. So, on with chapter eight! As always, thank you to all my wonderful reviewers, alerters and favers! I love you all!

This one contains a few swears, but you can understand why when you read it. I'd swear too in this situation and I'm sure you would as well.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to the wonderful JK Rowling.

**Chapter Eight – The Hogwarts Express**

Voldemort approached Harry with his wand drawn; Harry had to hold his arm firmly to stop if from shaking so, not from fear, but anticipation.

The Dark Lord lowered his wand and pressed the cold tip to Harry's skin. The Dark Mark burned as it pierced Harry's skin, but he didn't flinch. It wasn't so bad, really, and in a matter of moments, it was over, leaving the beautiful mark etched on his forearm, albeit with raised redness and swelling around the site.

Voldemort lifted his wand and almost immediately the pain subsided, replaced by a dull numbness. It engulfed Harry's whole arm and he had to shake it to get the feeling to return.

Harry looked up from his new tattoo to exchange a gleeful look with his cousin. Draco was looking ecstatic as well.

"Tomorrow, you will meet with the other Death Eaters and learn some of their tricks," said Voldemort. "And, when they deem you ready, you will accompany them on a mission." Voldemort waved his hand at them and a strong wind sent them reeling backwards and they stumbled into the door, which had magically opened. They understood that they were dismissed and muttered a quick 'goodbye' and 'thank you' before hurrying out of the room.

Draco apparently wanted to relive the experience of getting the Dark Mark, but Harry wanted to find Bellatrix. She'd been waiting for this day since the day he was born and now that the tattoo was permanently and truly on his forearm, he couldn't wait to show her.

He managed to shake Draco off (he was getting rather good at that) and headed outside, leaving the wards around Riddle Manor so he could Apparate.

He was only fifteen, but you had to be able to Apparate to join the Death Eaters so Bellatrix had 'arranged' (and by arranged, she had Imperiused the Ministry instructor) into teaching Harry, even though he was underage.

He was rather good at Apparating, never having Splinched himself as yet. Draco, however, had Splinched his ear off once when practicing and had been reluctant to Apparate ever again.

Harry hurried past the Death Eaters guarding the front gate. They'd had to be let in and out by Bellatrix or some other Death Eater every time since you needed a Dark Mark to enter (except for Narcissa, who was so well known as Lucius's wife that she was allowed to just breeze in and out whenever she pleased), but now that Harry had a Mark of his own, he pulled up his cloak and revealed the Dark Mark to them.

"Finally!" said one of the masked men, laughing. "I thought you were a Death Eater for ages, Lestrange!"

"It's official now," said Harry smugly.

The men chuckled and waved Harry through.

Harry walked a few more steps before reaching the wrought iron gate that separated Riddle Manor from the street. The wards extended several feet out as well, stopping just before where three Muggle children, about the age of ten or eleven, were playing with a bright red ball. He paused, watching them.

"Johnny!" shouted a girl with two blond plaits, waving her arms in the air. She was standing in between the other two, a good distance apart from each. "Johnny, pass to me!"

The only boy of the group grinned at the other girl, one with dark skin and many black braids protruding out of her head and passed it to her, instead of the blond.

"You have to try to get it, Monica!" shouted Johnny. "That's the whole point of Piggy in the Middle!"

"But I'm always in the middle!" Monica wailed. "Can't Tracy be the piggy for once?"

"No, because you missed it and I got it," said Tracy, the other girl. "And you're not always in the middle!"

"Yes, I am!"

Harry couldn't help but snort at their banter. They sounded just like Draco and Harry had when they were younger, although more carefree and innocent.

He pushed open the gate and strode out of the wards. He could almost feel himself walking through the invisible magical wards; it like he was walking through a cold shower momentarily.

Johnny was throwing the ball when he spotted Harry and he lost his gripping on the ball at the sight of the dark haired boy seemingly appearing out of nowhere.

Tracy also froze where she was, not even going after the red ball that was slowly rolling away.

Harry couldn't help but smirk at their expressions. He must've been a terrifying sight to the seven year olds – he was wearing all black and he still had his sleeve rolled up, revealing the gruesome looking (to kids, anyways) tattoo that was still fresh. It didn't help that Harry gave off that kind of feeling of menace and fright.

"Aha!" shouted Monica, triumphantly. She had caught the ball and was turning around, delighted, to face her friends when she saw Harry. She dropped the ball and it rolled towards Harry, coming to a stop at his feet.

No one said anything for a few minutes. Johnny and Monica had hurried over to Tracy and were huddled behind her. Monica nudged her and Tracy spoke up, her voice quivering a little, "Sorry, mister. Can we have our ball back?"

Harry looked down to the ball at his feet and leaned over to pick it up. He was debating whether or not to give it back ... and decided to have some fun – he was a Death Eater after all now.

He focused hard on the ball, imagining it blowing into a thousand little pieces, he could see it in his mind ... and without even drawing his wand, the ball exploded with a loud BANG, making all three children scream and scatter, stumbling over each other in their fright.

Harry watched with an amused expression as the red pieces of the ball floated to the ground and the three kids ran as fast as they could to the other end of the street.

Ah, it felt good to be a Death Eater.

* * *

Lily had finished packing up all of her books and swept the Charms classroom into order and was now off to her private quarters to pack her things. The Hogwarts students, including Jason, had already left for King's Cross Station, so Lily would Floo home later.

It had been a busy year, Lily's third at teaching. The students all seemed to genuinely enjoy her classes, even though Jason's classmates had teased him endlessly for a few months about Lily being the teacher.

The Charms classroom was on the third floor, and Lily's quarters were just above it, on the fourth floor.

Magicking the trunk of books she had collected to follow her, Lily headed out of the classroom and down the corridor to where the staircase was.

Unfortunately, it wasn't there at that exact moment, but across the hall moving slowly. As Lily waited for it to stop in the proper place, a hesitant voice spoke up from behind her. "Lily?" She turned to see Severus Snape standing there, looking nervous.

Severus had been one of the factors against her returning to Hogwarts. They'd never reconciled after he'd called her a Mudblood in fifth year and the slim chance that they might've some day had been ruined when Voldemort, the man who Snape worked for, had murdered Lily's son.

Lily didn't know why Dumbledore allowed Snape to work here, since it was obvious (to her anyways) that he was still working for Voldemort. He didn't even seem to have any remorse that her own son had been killed by Voldemort.

She and Severus had hardly spoken in the three years that she worked here, only speaking on curt terms or at the dinner table; they might exchange a few words but nothing more. Every so often, Lily would have to drag a Slytherin student off to talk with Snape about him, but that was pretty much the extent of their relationship.

However, she had spoken to him once ... well, not spoken, but mostly yelled. Snape was known for being snarky and cruel to his students, but he really had it out for Jason. Lily thought that this was very petty and so one day, when Jason was in first year and had come to Lily upset after his end of the day Potions, she'd stormed to the Potions classroom and exploded at him.

He had looked shocked; she still remembered his cold words: "Your son is a trouble maker, just like his useless father."

That was another thing about Snape – even though he and Lily were no longer friends, he still thought that Lily had been an utter fool to date James Potter in their seventh year, and when she had married him ... well, there was another factor against their reconciliation.

Presently, Lily turned away from Snape, focusing her eyes on the approaching staircase. "Yes?" she said, her voice cold.

Snape didn't seem at all effected by her tone; after all, he was probably used to it by now. "Do you need any help?" he offered simply.

That surprised Lily; she turned around to face Severus again.

He looked just as swallow and sinister as ever, his slightly greasy hair long and covering his eyes. He was dressed in his usual black robes even though the day was boiling hot outside and Lily didn't understand how he could stand it.

The staircase arrived and Lily turned back to it. "No, thank you," she said, trying to be a little less curt.

Snape looked disappointed, but he just shrugged and strode away, his black cloak flying up behind him as he went.

* * *

Harry arrived at Lestrange Manor just a few moments after Apparating from a street corner near Riddle Manor and hurried up to his home.

He loved it here, even if he spent most of his time at Riddle Manor or Thistle Estates. Here, it was just him and Bellatrix, the way he liked it.

The wards let him pass easily through and he opened the door, calling out a hello as he went.

Two of the three house-elves appeared and took Harry's cloak from his arms. "Where's my mother?" he asked, distractedly.

"She's in her room, Master Henry," the female house elf murmured.

Harry nodded in thanks and headed upstairs. Bellatrix's room was at the end of the second floor and to get to it, Harry had to pass by a huge portrait of Rodolphus Lestrange that loomed over the hall.

Harry paused in front of it, his head cocked to one side. The portrait Rodolphus was currently asleep, but Harry often talked to it and discussed his life with him. After all, he was his father.

Vaguely, he wondered what the real Rodolphus would've thought about his only son becoming a Death Eater – proud, no doubt, but it would've been nice to have grown up with an alive father, instead of a portrait replacement.

Harry continued on his way down the hall and paused at Bellatrix's door. He knocked lightly and after a few moments, the door swung open.

"Yes?" said Bellatrix, not glancing up from the desk where she was writing a letter. She sounded annoyed, as if she thought that it was a house-elf who had entered.

"It's me, Mother," said Harry. He rolled up his sleeve and the Dark Mark was very obvious. Bellatrix glanced up and then shrieked in delight.

"Henry!" she shouted, jumping up from her desk to run at Harry and give him a tight hug. "I'm so proud of you, darling! Here, hold out your arm – I want to see the Dark Mark on my baby's arm."

Harry felt a little irked at being called a baby, but was too excited to show his mother the Mark that he let it go for now.

Bellatrix oohed and ahhed over his arm for a good half hour, before Harry finally managed to wrench himself from her grasp.

He headed over to the sofa in her room and flopped down. He loved to simply lounge in here while Bellatrix worked at her desk.

However, Bellatrix was too excited to go back to work. "When did the Dark Lord say you could start your Death Eater training?" she demanded, coming to sit beside him on the sofa.

"Well, he said Draco and I had to meet with the rest of you guys tomorrow and when you think you're ready, we'll go on a mission with you."

"That will be very soon," Bellatrix promised. "You're going to love being a Death Eater, darling."

Harry smirked, thinking of the three children he had terrified earlier. "I already do."

* * *

That evening, Bellatrix invited the Malfoys and Rabastan over to dinner to celebrate Harry and Draco becoming Death Eaters.

The house-elves had prepared a huge feast for them and the Lestranges and Malfoys stayed up late, talking and laughing with each other.

All of the adults were ecstatic for the boys, although Harry could sense that Narcissa thought they were a little young to have joined. After all, they were only fifteen.

Bellatrix kept smiling at Harry and kept putting in little hints that she was going to buy him a present for achieving this great honour.

Finally, after Draco mumbled a response to a question that hadn't been asked and almost fell asleep in his pudding, the party dispersed. The guests left and the house-elves set about to clean up, their huge ears drooping with fatigue.

Bellatrix hugged Harry before she headed up to her own room, skipping up the stairs and singing a tune that sounded strangely like 'Alleluia, alleluia'.

Harry rolled his eyes at his mother's strangeness and then headed up the stairs after her to his own room. Unlike his mother's, Harry's room was on the third floor.

He opened the door and smiled at the sight of a warm bed and a crackling fire in the hearth. He changed into his pyjamas and crawled into bed, admiring his Dark Mark (the swelling had gone down) and fell asleep, dreaming of what tomorrow would bring. Or rather, what later today would bring, as it had been tomorrow for 3 hours now.

* * *

Harry woke up bright and early, even after having only four hours of sleep. Bellatrix was also awake; humming to herself in the kitchen as she magically poured herself a cup of coffee.

"Good morning, Henry," she said, without even looking over her shoulder. "Want some coffee?"

"Sure," Harry said, sitting down at the kitchen table. They hardly used this table, most often eating in the dining room.

Bellatrix summoned another cup and the coffee pot poured its warm black liquid into the cup. Two floating dishes, containing milk and sugar, followed behind the cup as it hovered over to Harry.

Harry tipped a bit of sugar into his coffee and sipped it. It was still bitter, but good and he was awake nearly instantly.

After he and Bellatrix had finished eating (a large platter of waffles prepared by the house-elves), Bellatrix stood and smiled broadly at her son.

"Are you ready to go, Henry?" she asked.

"Now?" Harry said, surprised. "It's only eight o'clock!"

"The meeting starts at nine, Henry, dear," said Bellatrix. "That's when we always meet."

"Really? Isn't that kind of ... early?"

Bellatrix laughed at Harry. "No, dear. If we meet early, then we'll have lots of time if we need to plan something for that evening."

"Are we doing anything tonight?" asked Harry, curiously.

She narrowed her eyes. "Yes," she said slowly, "But we'll have to discuss whether or not you and Draco will accompany us. Don't get your hopes up, darling."

That made Harry's heart sink, but he remained hopeful that they would be allowed. Fifteen minutes later, Harry and Bellatrix Apparated from Lestrange Manor to Riddle Manor.

After Harry had broken free of the usual suffocating motion of Apparating, he followed his mother up to Riddle Manor. Bellatrix rolled up her sleeve, flashing her Dark Mark at the Death Eaters standing guard as she went.

Smug, Harry did the same. The Death Eaters simply waved them through, not even bothering to check twice. After all, Bellatrix and her son were well known figures around Riddle Manor and none of them looked surprised that Harry had his own Mark now.

"Come along, Henry," said Bellatrix, leading him towards the door that led to the Death Eater lounge. Harry had never been in there before, but instead of hesitating outside like he would've when he was younger; he strode in right after Bellatrix.

It was a shock – he'd been expecting a dark room, filled with candles and old wooden furniture, but it was completely normal, albeit decorated in green and silver, which he'd been told were Slytherin colours. There were two huge dark green couches with silver throw blankets over them and a huge white table filled the whole left side of the room.

A few Death Eaters were already seated there, talking while another two were standing by what seemed to be a coffee machine and laughing about something.

Harry spotted Draco and Lucius sitting at the table, as well as Rabastan. Draco looked half asleep and so Harry went over to him, slamming his hand down on the table to wake him up as he went.

"Ah! I'm awake, I'm awake!" Draco yelped, jerking upright. When he saw it was his cousin who had woken him, he muttered a swear under his breath and put his face back on the table.

"Good morning to you too," Harry said, settling into the seat next to him.

Draco grunted something that Harry assumed was a greeting.

Rabastan, who was sitting opposite Harry and Draco, finished his conversation with Nott and looked over to his nephew.

He smiled, a very uncommon thing for the remaining brother of the famed Lestranges, and motioned for Harry to follow him.

Harry elbowed his cousin and stood to follow Rabastan. Draco looked up, ready to slaughter Harry, but upon seeing him standing up and walking over to Rabastan, joined him.

Rabastan handed them each two sets of new black robes. "These are for you," he said. "They have a special charm on them, cast by the Dark Lord himself, to help shield you against spells. It does not stop spells, but strengthens your shield when you cast it. Every Death Eater has them," he added, at the sight of Harry's face, who'd been furious thinking that Voldemort had charmed robes especially for them, as if he thought they weren't worthy.

Rabastan waved his wand and a gleaming mahogany box appeared, floating at arm level.

Harry eyed it curiously. What was in it?

"This is the most important thing and why we wear the masks," warned Rabastan. "Never reveal your identity to the Light side, even if captured. Use a glamour, a permanent sticking spell on your mask, _anything_ that will prevent them from knowing who you are."

Harry nodded, his jaw clenching.

Rabastan opened the box to reveal two glistening white face masks. One had faint silver circular designs on it and the other had silver designs that looked like ivy or thorns cascading down it. Rabastan handed the circular designed one to Draco and the thorn one to Harry. They each took them.

It was beautiful, with a black silk ribbon that would tie around Harry's head to keep the mask in place.

He put it up to his face, holding it in place as he waved his wand and the ribbon tied itself up. There were small holes, invisible on the front of the mask, that allowed him to breathe through his nose and there were holes for his mouth and eyes. It fit like a glove and made Harry feel like it was now even more official that he was a Death Eater.

"Good," said Rabastan, nodding and surveying the two boys.

Harry and Draco looked at each other and Harry grinned. Draco looked rather frightening in his mask, his white blond hair the only visible part of his face, making him appear like a ghost. Harry was sure he looked just as frightening, if not more.

He pulled out his wand and magically summoned a mirror. He held it at arm's length and peered at his reflection.

He was right, he did look terrifying. The mask covered his entire face, except for his coal black eyes which were penetrating and deadly looking.

Bellatrix caught his eye and winked at him, smiling more broadly than she had for a while.

"Now," said Rabastan, his face serious, "The most important thing about being a Death Eater is not to get captured."

Harry had to resist a snort – well that was obvious.

A few more Death Eaters filtered in and so Harry reluctantly removed the mask as no one else was wearing theirs.

The table slowly filled up and by nine o'clock, everyone had arrived. A few gave Harry and Draco curious looks, but said nothing.

Finally, Bellatrix stood, as it was obvious she was one of the head Death Eaters, and the table fell quiet.

She started off talking about how amazing Voldemort was and only stopped when Rabastan cleared his throat loudly. She didn't flush at all, but veered to a different subject. She talked a little about a few small missions she knew the Dark Lord wanted completed and assigned some Death Eaters these tasks.

"Avery," she said sharply. "The Dark Lord wants you to teach Draco and Henry some of our tricks before they are sent out on a mission with us."

A big, broad shouldered man nodded and got to his feet. "Malfoy, Lestrange," he said, jerking with his thumb that they were to stand up and follow him.

Harry and Draco stood and followed Avery out of the room. He led them outside, where it was just starting to get hot.

Avery had them do some basic physical training and then had them duel each other. They had improved greatly since that duel when they were eleven, but still fought with the same ferocity as they had then.

After they had been at it for nearly half an hour, Avery motioned for them to stop, looking impressed. "You two are excellent duellers," he commented. "You'll be able to come with the rest of the Death Eaters sooner than I thought."

"Really?" said Harry, panting from the fight. "When do you think that will be?" he added, slyly.

Avery shrugged. "It isn't up to me, but the Dark Lord has been planning a rather large attack and I assume that he will want you two on that mission."

"What is it?" pressed Draco.

Avery shook his head and refused to say anything further.

* * *

For the next two months, Harry and Draco trained almost fulltime with the Death Eaters, learning some very cool tricks and spells. Both were given another wand as a backup, although Harry disliked this one (a blackthorn wand with a unicorn hair and 10 ¼ inches long). The spare wand was stored in his sleeve and could easily be accessed if he was ever disarmed.

It was the 28th of August when the entirety of the Death Eaters was summoned to the Dark Lord's receiving chamber.

It was the first meeting Harry had had with the Dark Lord since he became a Death Eater and his knees were getting sore from kneeling so long on the stone floor. He resisted the urge to shift his weight every so slightly because the room was so quiet.

The Dark Lord hadn't said anything for at least five minutes; was just sitting in his throne and staring up at the ceiling, deep in thought.

Finally, he said, "Neville Longbottom has been allowed to live for far too long. His death is fourteen years overdue and this September I intend to rectify that." He paused and then stood up and started to pace back and forth. "He is under the Order's guard at this moment because it is summer and so it would be foolish to try to snatch him from their midst. And, once the school year begins, he will under the watchful eye of _Dumbledore_." He stopped pacing and turned to face the Death Eaters. "The only way we can get to him is when he is in between these two 'guardians'."

Harry immediately knew what Voldemort was talking about – the Hogwarts Express. The scarlet steam engine transported students to and from school every September and June, leaving from Platform 9 ¾ at King's Cross Station in London.

"We will attack the Hogwarts Express mid-route," Voldemort said fluidly. "Longbottom will be under no protection then, other than the usual Aurors the Ministry now sends with the train. He will be easy to capture then. You are to capture the boy, not kill him. That privilege rests alone with me." He turned to where Bellatrix was kneeling, her mask pushed into her curly hair, her eyes concentrated on him as if entranced. He said to her, "Bella, you will assemble the Death Eaters you think fitting for this task – I want at least a dozen on the first attack and another ten ready in the wings."

"Yes, my lord," Bellatrix murmured.

Voldemort said nothing more and after a few minutes, he dismissed the Death Eaters. Almost immediately out of the room (the door had just closed) Bellatrix barked, "Avery, Lucius, Rabastan, Nott, Gibbon, Rosier, Dolohov, Greyback, Yaxley, we'll be the group that first attacks the train. Henry, Draco, you will accompany us as well."

Harry and Draco nodded, Harry grinning in excitement – their first mission and such an important one too!

"Rowle, you'll head the reserve team – gather nine more Death Eaters and then report their names to me and the Dark Lord."

A big blond man nodded and departed, calling out a few names as he went. Everyone who Bellatrix had not named dispersed until it was just the dozen of them that would be going. Most of them cast suspicious looks to Harry and Draco, as if wondering what two teenagers were doing, coming on this mission with them.

Bellatrix answered this question a few moments later, once everyone had settled in the Death Eater lounge upstairs.

"Henry, Draco, your task is probably the most important," Bellatrix said, not smiling as she was in business mode.

Harry's excitement level increased; his heart was pounding heavily and he could feel it in his throat.

"Since you two are the youngest of us and are school aged, you will be dressed as regular Hogwarts students and once the battle commences, enter the train and locate Longbottom. Get him outside, no matter how you have to do it – the Imperio Curse, persuading him, anything. Once that is completed and you are clear of the train and Aurors, one of you press your Dark Mark and the other Apparate with Longbottom back here, where several Death Eaters will take over. The rest of us will be your distraction –" here she paused and a maniac smile lifted her lips – "and kill as many Aurors and Order members as we possibly can."

The Death Eaters all grinned and made sounds of approval. Harry and Draco exchanged a look; Harry was beyond ready for this – this was the moment to prove himself to all of the Death Eaters that he was capable of being in their ranks.

Bellatrix went over a few more technicalities, Rabastan and Yaxley also speaking. Finally, after an hour long meeting, they dispersed.

"You two will be coming with me," said Bellatrix, as she stood, addressing her nephew and son.

At their quizzical look, she added, "We have to get you some Hogwarts robes."

* * *

Both Lily and James accompanied Jason to Diagon Alley, as they did every year, on the 28th of August to buy his school supplies.

They'd gotten everything he needed, except a new pair of Quidditch gloves, which Jason said he _just_ had to have. Lily trailed behind her husband and son, who had raced ahead to look at the newest model for the Nimbus: so much for the new gloves.

She wasn't paying much attention to where she was going and accidently knocked shoulders with a tall boy with messy dark hair.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, as the boy dropped his package. The two other people he was with continued on their way, not looking back.

The boy didn't respond to Lily, just bent over to retrieve the bundle of robes. Lily happened to see a Hogwarts crest gleaming from one of the robes.

"You go to Hogwarts?" she asked, surprised. She had never seen this boy around there before and he looked much to be old to just be starting first year.

The boy straightened and gave Lily an annoyed look. He had longish dark hair, which he swept gracefully out of his black eyes. Lily was suddenly reminded strongly of James when they were still in school and for a fleeting moment, saw a flicker of James in the boy's features. Her heart leaped for a moment, but once reality caught up with her (Harry was dead, after all), her chest was once more filled by the hollow feeling that appeared whenever she thought of her elder son.

"Yeah," said the boy, jerkily, answering Lily's question.

She couldn't remember what she'd asked him so just nodded dumbly. The boy was giving her an odd look, as if he recognised her from somewhere ... perhaps he did go to Hogwarts after all and that was where he recognized Lily from.

"Henry!" barked a sharp voice, making the boy jump. He turned away without another word.

Lily also turned and walked slowly towards Quality Quidditch supplies, where James and Jason were both pressed up against the glass, eyes wide at the gleaming broom in the display case. Typical.

* * *

September 1st arrived faster than Harry thought it would. The Death Eaters were assembled and ready to go at eight o'clock that morning, having gone over and over the plan and Harry was itching to get started. The Hogwarts robes he'd gotten a few days ago fit him nicely, but he disliked having to wear them – it felt a little like betrayal to the Dark Lord.

Harry though for a fleeting moment about the redheaded woman who had bumped into him at Diagon Alley – she had seemed familiar at the time and when Harry thought hard on it, he realized that she had been one of the Order members who had come to liberate Sirius Black all those years ago. He felt a fleeting surge of hate for her – she was one of Voldemort's enemies and he should've just killed her then and there.

"No, that is _not_ a good idea!" said Bellatrix shrilly, bringing Harry out of his thoughts in confusion. Was she talking to him? Oh, alas, no. She was fuming and glaring at Avery.

Bellatrix and Avery had been at it all morning: Avery was arguing that Harry and Draco should start on the Hogwarts Express while Bellatrix thought they should sneak on in the chaos of the battle.

Harry, of course, sided with his mother. He thought it would be much easier for them to sneak on the train then have to explain their mysterious presence to the students on the train; it would probably alert them that something was wrong immediately.

Finally, Rabastan and Dolohov intervened and supported Bellatrix. Looking furious, Avery nodded reluctantly and they went over the plan again.

Before the train even left the station, the Death Eaters would destroy a part of the track where they wanted the battle to take place. Once the train reached that part, all of them would use Slowing Spells on it, as to not send the train over.

Throughout this, Harry and Draco would be hidden under an Invisibility Cloak and as soon as the first Aurors opened the door, they would slip into the train.

From then on in, Draco and Harry would find Longbottom and get him outside by whatever means possible. Bellatrix had stressed the importance of this so much that Harry, who barely ever got nervous anymore, had butterflies.

Harry had got little sleep the night before, but felt strangely energized and alert. It was a lot of sitting around and waiting, Harry realized, being a Death Eater. He still loved it.

Finally, ten thirty arrived and the Death Eaters all Apparated to the middle of Scotland where the train cut through.

Harry turned sharply and felt himself being sucked through time and space. For a few moments, he couldn't breathe but then the feeling subsided as he appeared in a green field with his fellow Death Eaters.

It was a beautiful surrounding, a large crystal clear lake on the west side of the tracks. The place where the Death Eaters had landed was a green field but a towering forest stood directly behind it. The sun was hot today, Harry noted, as the sky was completely clear of any clouds whatsoever.

Gibbon and Nott immediately headed over to the nearby railway tracks and shouted a few curses, making them explode instantly in a cloud of smoke and a loud BANG that made birds fly from the trees behind them.

"And now, we wait," said Rabastan, who was standing beside Harry. He turned to his nephew and asked, in his calm voice, "Are you ready for this, Henry?"

"Of course," Harry said.

Rabastan nodded once and drew from his cloak, a silvery Invisibility Cloak. He handed it to Harry who took it, stone faced.

It was another hour wait, in which the Death Eaters sat around in the forest and watched for the train. Harry and Draco walked around under the Invisibility Cloak to practice making sure they weren't seen.

Greyback had been sent to scout out the tracks a few kilometres down and suddenly, he came running back, hollering that the train was on its way.

Harry threw the Cloak over him and Draco, as the other Death Eaters all burst out of the trees, standing with their wands pointed down the tracks and masks down over their faces, to where Harry could just see a faint white smoke rising above the horizon.

* * *

The Hogwarts Express let out a shrill whistle and suddenly, everyone was thrown forward as the brakes were slammed.

Jason fell out of his seat and onto the floor, spilling Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans everywhere.

"What's going on?" asked Melinda, shakily getting to her feet. She peered out of the window and frowned. "We're nowhere near Hogwarts yet."

Jason stood up from the floor and shrugged. "I'll go see," he said and opened the compartment door.

He peered outside into the corridor; several other heads were poking outside and then suddenly a clear voice came on over an intercom Jason hadn't known the train to have. "Attention, all students, this is your conductor speaking. Return to your compartments, lock the doors and close the blinds on both the doors and windows. We are under attack. I ask that any Aurors on the train be ready for battle."

An uneasy silence descended onto the train and then several people shrieked and Jason turned around, his heart thumping heavily. Melinda was standing there, her mouth hanging open.

"Attack? What?"

Jason nodded grimly, confirming her horrified look.

"What are we going to do?" she then whispered.

Jason was at a loss of words. Simultaneously, the both of them went over to the window, where they saw ten hooded and masked people, all with their wands pointed at the train and white masks gleaming on their faces.

* * *

His heart pounding, Harry, along with Draco, walked up to the Death Eaters, hidden by the Cloak.

Harry had never seen the Hogwarts Express, but his first impression of it, when it came into view, it's horn signalling warning and the conductor in the front car panicking, Harry thought it was very cool. It was long and elegant and a scarlet red colour. It was several cars long and Harry felt his heart drop – how would they find Longbottom in this huge thing?

The train let out another whistle of warning and the Death Eaters all raised their wands at it and shouted as one, "_Nullus_!"

From each of their wands a white jet of light shot out, hitting the train and slowing the already slowed down train to a complete stop.

Bellatrix looked over her shoulder and hissed, to midair, "Go, Henry! Hurry and ... good luck!"

Harry smiled at his mother, even if she couldn't see it.

The two teens slid up to the side of the train and when the door burst open and Aurors came streaming out, they jumped inside, not bothering to shut the door behind them as they went.

Inside the train was total chaos. Students were crying, shouting and some of the older ones were arguing heatedly with the Aurors.

"We're of age!" shouted a few students.

The Auror tried to argue with them some more, but they all pushed past them as one, almost trampling the invisible Harry and Draco as they went.

The Auror roared in anger and hurried after them.

Draco pulled off the Cloak and quickly stored it inside his regular one. In the chaos, nobody noticed two random boys appearing out of nowhere.

"Should we split up?" Draco asked, stepping backwards as a young student came running down the hallways, crying up a storm.

Harry shook his head. "No. Come on, let's check down here –" Harry motioned to the door that led to the next car over – "this train car seems full of little kids; Longbottom is the same age as us."

Draco nodded and said, "Wands out."

They headed to the next car, dodging several screaming students as they went. A first or second year girl came running up to them, shrieking and crying. She latched herself onto Harry's robes.

"Get off of me," he snarled, trying to shake her loose.

The girl's hold was strong and she refused to let go. Harry pointed his wand at her, and without even saying the spell, sent her sprawling backwards through the air as the Blasting Curse hit her full on.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Way to keep cover, Harry."

* * *

The battle against the Aurors was much too easy for Bellatrix's taste.

Bellatrix shot a Killing Curse at a student. It struck him directly in the chest and he toppled over immediately, several people screaming in alarm.

She laughed maniacally and shot off another one into the crowd. She was having so much fun battling them and the pathetic students that had run out to join that she didn't even notice an Auror huddled over by the tracks, murmuring "_Reparo Maximus_" as fast and as many times as he could.

* * *

"Do you know where Neville Longbottom is?" Harry demanded of a third year girl, shaking her. She shook her head, fearfully. Harry released her and she stumbled away.

"Where the bloody hell is he?" said Harry, frustrated. He usually had a calm head, but was starting to get a little worried – what if they couldn't find Longbottom? From what Harry could tell of the battle outside, the Death Eaters weren't overwhelmed yet, but they soon would be.

Draco turned to face his cousin, his face annoyed. "He has to be here somewhere," he said, sounding a little desperate.

Harry and Draco had just finished searching the car and had found nothing when a calm voice came over a magical intercom. "Students, attention students. Everyone find a seat immediately – the track has been fixed and we will be on our way momentarily."

As a cheer went up with the students, Harry and Draco exchanged horrified looks. A loud siren suddenly went off, seemingly to signal the Aurors and students battling to return to the train.

Harry tried to shove his way to the nearest exit, Draco hot on his heels, but was stopped by the Auror standing there. "No, you all have to stay in here! The train will be leaving –"

"We have to get off the train!" shouted Harry and Draco in unison. "You don't understand," added Draco, trying to be reasonable.

Harry, however, had no time for reason and tried to shove past the Auror, but a spell sent him reeling backwards.

"Are you mad?" demanded the Auror. "You can't go out there – the Death Eaters are still there!"

The train began to move and Harry shouted in alarm. "WE HAVE TO GET OFF THE FUCKING TRAIN!" he hollered at the top of his lungs, his voice cracking a little in horror at the thought of being trapped on the Hogwarts Express.

The Auror ignored Harry's foul language, distracted by a curse that came flying in his direction. Harry managed to duck as well, but took the opportunity to shoot his own curse at the Auror. The Cutting Hex hit the man in the chest and he screamed in pain.

The train was gathering speed, albeit being pounded by the Death Eater's curses, but Harry threw open the doors and was about to jump out when a strong hand grabbed the back of his robes and yanked him back in.

"Oh, no you don't, laddy. You're staying in here, where it's safe."

"Screw this," Harry swore, pointing his wand at the man and saying, "_Avada Kedavra_!"

The green light filled the compartment and as the man fell down, it filled with screams as people looked around to see who had gotten hit.

Harry no longer cared if anyone had seen him killing the man; he wanted off and he wanted his mother. Thankfully, no one had seen who had cast the Killing Curse and most assumed it was from a Death Eater outside as one in particular was pointing his wand at the train, his expression and identity hidden under his mask.

Harry turned back to the door, but saw that it had closed by itself, Draco trying to pry it open. "It's gone and bloody locked itself!" Draco shouted in horror. "How are we going to get off the train?"

Suddenly an Auror came running at them, and tackled them. Harry thought for a wild moment that he had somehow found out they were Death Eaters, but when a curse came flying through the window over head, smashing the glass, he realized that the Auror had saved their lives.

"Are you boys okay?" the Auror asked.

"No!" roared Harry. "We have to get off of this train!"

The Auror nodded fervently. "Don't worry, son. We'll be at Hogwarts soon and then we'll be safe there."

"That's not what I meant!" Harry roared in horror. However, the Auror jumped up and ran down the corridor to another student, who was crying and shaking badly.

Harry jumped to his feet and was prepared to jump through the window but Draco held him back.

"No, Henry," he said, solemnly. "It's over."

"What!? What the hell are you on, Malfoy? You want us to be captured? Are you fu –?"

"If you jump out of the train now, it'll be suicide. As soon as the train stops at Hogwarts, we'll Apparate away. But, we can't do anything now. The train is moving too fast."

Harry, however reluctantly he felt about accepting the truth Draco spoke, looked back to the broken window and saw the train had now gathered incredible speed, leaving the Death Eaters far behind. Harry stuck his head out of the window and saw a figure he knew to be Bellatrix standing there, her hair smoking slightly, with a horrified stance.

He leaned back into the train, his heart thumping heavily.

The first rule of being a Death Eater, don't get captured, had just been broken.

* * *

A/N: Yay, the end of this chapter! Next one will be as soon as possible and I promise exciting things are in store. Thank you for everything, everyone!

Please review!


	9. A Problem Named Hermione

A/N: Chapter nine! Yay! Thank you to all my reviewers, alerters and favers! You guys are the best! I'm so so sorry that I'm so stupid and didn't update for ever :( Please forgive me! This chapter is nice and long and we finally get to meet someone special ...

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to the wonderful JK Rowling.

**Chapter Nine – A Problem Named Hermione**

"Henry!" screamed Bellatrix, watching in horror as the scarlet steam engine ran along its tracks, eager to get away from the Death Eaters.

She pointed her wand at the train but Rabastan appeared at her side, and disarmed her easily. "No, Bellatrix," he said firmly. "We have to get back to the Dark Lord – he'll know what to do ... even if he is angry with us."

Bellatrix just stared at her brother-in-law. "My son is on that train!" she yelled. "Henry! He's going right into Dumbledore's grasp!"

Lucius hurried over to them, looking terrified. "Bellatrix! What are we to do?"

Rabastan answered when it was clear that all Bellatrix could think about was her son trapped on a train headed to Hogwarts. "We'll go to Hogsmeade Station and collect them from there. We can only hope that when we get there, they will have been able to get Neville Longbottom as well."

Bellatrix didn't hear the Neville part – all she wanted was her son safe and sound. "He's only fifteen!" she said, looking terrified out of her mind.

"I know," said Rabastan, regretfully. "But, the boys are clever – they'll not let themselves get captured so easily. Come on, we'll go back to the Manor and speak to the Dark Lord about what our next plan should be."

The other Death Eaters had gathered around the three, but remained frozen, all staring at Bellatrix for her approval. Rabastan cleared his throat and Bellatrix jerked out of her little trance. She nodded stiffly after a few minutes under Rabastan's firm gaze.

She wanted nothing more than to follow the Hogwarts Express and rescue her baby as soon as she could, but even Bellatrix could see the reason in waiting until they spoke with the Dark Lord.

The Death Eaters Apparated away, leaving behind the dead bodies of the Aurors and students they had killed. Only one Death Eater had been killed in the battle, but Bellatrix couldn't focus on anything so she had no idea who was missing.

She cast one final look at the faintly rising steam from the Hogwarts Express and then Apparated away.

* * *

Harry stormed down the train and up to the first nearly empty compartment door. The only person inside was a girl sitting on the seat, her head in her knees and she had her hands knotted in her bushy hair.

Harry opened the door aggressively making the girl jump and looked up, startled.

"Get out," Harry snarled, stepping into the compartment and jerked with his thumb to the door.

The girl narrowed her eyes, but stood up. She had very curly brown hair, rather large front teeth, and would've been pretty if she hadn't been giving Harry such a dirty look.

"Who are you?" she demanded, her hand automatically going to her wand, its holster hooked to her belt loop.

Harry ignored her question; he was not in the mood to argue with this Hogwarts brat. He narrowed his eyes at the girl and gave her the dirtiest look he could manage. She didn't even flinch.

"Get out," he spat again.

"Who are you?" she repeated, pulling out her wand and pointing it at Harry.

"Students," Draco snapped from behind Harry, quickly coming up with an identity for them. "Who do you think we are, on the Hogwarts Express?"

The girl didn't look convinced. "Why have I never seen you around, then?"

Harry was shaking in anger. "What, you've seen everyone who goes to the school? Now, _get out_."

She didn't move for a few seconds. Finally, she sat back down. "I won't bother you. You can sit here if you _really _want to, but I'm not moving."

"Come on, Harry," muttered Draco, annoyed, "We'll just go find another compartment."

However, Harry had a feeling that every other compartment would be filled with crying or hysterical students and seeing that the girl wasn't in hysterics, he figured this was their best bet.

The girl curled up against the window with a book, so Harry and Draco sat in the seats nearest the door and leaned forward to talk, their voices low.

"What are we going to do?" muttered Harry, shooting furtive looks at the girl every so often. She was staring at the book with a glazed expression and kept jumping at the slightest noise –probably because of fear from the Death Eater attack. She hadn't looked too frightened when they'd first barged in, but now she seemed to going into some sort of frozen shock.

"Ditch as soon as we can," Draco muttered back. "I'm sure Auntie Bella will have sent someone to the station to get us."

Harry nodded tightly, pinching the bridge of his nose at the thought of his mother. She was going to be so mad –

The girl coughed loudly, but it was an innocent cough and she looked up in surprise at the dark looks the boys gave her.

"What?" she demanded, shutting her book with a snap. "Have a problem with me coughing?"

"Yes, actually," said Harry arrogantly.

The girl muttered something dark under her breath and started to stare out of the window, looking thoroughly exasperated and frustrated.

Harry and Draco turned back to look at each other. "Kay, Harry," Draco said his voice low, "Even though this was a complete fail, do you think we should still try and get Longbottom?"

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but suddenly, she looked up back at them and asked, "What year are you guys in?"

Harry and Draco exchanged a look. Harry had no idea what year the girl was in, but she looked to be about sixteen. "Fifth," Harry grunted finally.

She looked shocked. But her face soon masked into dark suspicion. "Really?" said the girl, scathingly. "I'm in fifth year too –" Crap, Harry thought – "Why have I never seen you before if you're in my year?" she hissed, rising to her feet and drawing her wand again.

"Calm down," Draco said smoothly. He slowly rose to his feet, followed by Harry, both drawing their wands. Harry was very thankful that the Death Eaters, as part of their training, had a little session with the two boys in calmly dealing with a deranged captive (their practice prisoner was one who'd been subjected to several meetings with the Cruciatus).

"We've just transferred in this year," Draco explained, avoiding the girl's question. "We were homeschooled before."

The girl still looked unconvinced, but lowered her wand. "Are you two brothers?" she asked. "You don't look like it."

"Cousins," said Draco automatically.

She didn't say anything for a long time, but finally spoke. "My name is Hermione Granger. What are yours?"

She seemed to be going for a different angle – polite and calm. Harry wasn't falling for it: admitting his name would be suicide so he ignored her question. "Look, why don't you just go sit with your friends?" he said nastily. "We really would like some privacy."

Hermione just stared at Harry. "This is my compartment," she said stubbornly. "If you want privacy, go away. I was here first."

"That is so immature. 'I was here first'," he mocked.

Hermione just looked at Harry, disgusted. "Get out," she said, sitting down and opening her book again.

"Go sit with your friends," Harry repeated. "Or did they get killed in the battle with the Death Eaters?" He smirked and flopped down onto the seat. Draco sighed before joining his cousin in sitting.

Hermione looked astonished and horrified. "How can you say something like that so casually?" she demanded. "Didn't you see anything of what they did?"

Harry shrugged and didn't reply. He just leaned back in his seat and stared at the girl, smirking.

"Get out," she said, disgusted.

The boys ignored her and Draco asked, his eyes lighting up with malice, "You do have friends, right?"

"Of course," she said, stiffly. The automatic way she said it, made both boys snort.

"Oh yeah?" said Harry, smirking. "Why don't you go sit with them then?

"Because ... well, because –"

"Awe, she doesn't have any friends," said Harry, making his voice really pityingly. He rolled his eyes at his cousin.

"I do!" said Hermione, indignantly.

"Oh yeah? What are their names?"

"Ron Weasley," Hermione said automatically. Then she flushed and added quickly, "And Neville Longbottom –"

Harry and Draco sat straight up in their seats, making Hermione jump at their sudden movement.

"What?" she demanded, looking from Draco to Harry. Harry had to hand it to her – her hand had automatically gone to her wand at their movement. She wasn't as stupid as she looked.

"You know Longbottom?" Harry asked urgently. Maybe all was not lost after all.

Hermione looked confused. "Yes," she said slowly. "He's in Gryffindor with me. Why?"

The fact that she was in Gryffindor didn't surprise Harry at all – all Gryffindors were stupid, according to Bellatrix. But ... she did know Longbottom and could perhaps help them get to him.

Draco and Harry exchanged a look. "Why don't you stay here and sit with us?" Harry said courteously, gesturing to the seat beside him.

To say that Hermione looked bewildered would've been an understatement. "_What_?"

"It was incredibly rude of us to tell you to leave," Harry said, smoothly. "You can stay here if you wish."

Hermione narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "What's going on?"

"I just said it was rude to tell you to leave," Harry said, getting irritated. "So ... erm, what was your name again?"

The girl flushed. "Hermione," she said, a little annoyed that they hadn't remembered her name. "And, you still haven't told me your names."

"Harry," said Harry simply, offering no guesses at his surname. Going with a nickname was smarter than Henry, he figured.

"Draco," said his cousin, who obviously hadn't had Harry's thought process. But, thankfully both boys had been basically kept out of the public eye since their birth and so even Draco's uncommon name didn't, apparently, ring any bells with the girl.

She did notice that they withheld their surnames, but said nothing about it, although she eyed them with even more suspicion.

* * *

Lily had just arrived by Floo to Hogwarts to be cornered by Dumbledore. His face was grave. "Lily, there was an attack on the Hogwarts Express this afternoon."

Lily paled instantly. "What? What – is everyone all right? Is Jason all right? Did they get away?"

Dumbledore nodded sadly. "Yes, they got away." Lily sighed in relief, but Dumbledore added, "I'm afraid that not everyone is accounted for. The Aurors contacted me after they had escaped to say that they lost three Aurors to the Death Eaters and ... five students are unaccounted for."

Lily's heart leapt in her chest with horror. "Jason?" she whispered.

Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "I do not know," he said, quietly. "Everyone was in such a panic that only a head count could be managed ... they don't know the identity of the five missing students."

_Oh no_, Lily thought. What if Jason – no, she mustn't think that.

"What did they want?" she asked. "The Death Eaters?"

"My guess is Neville Longbottom," said Dumbledore truthfully.

"Neville?" Lily repeated. Even though the prophecy no longer effected Lily and James, Dumbledore still talked about it with them, for the Potters were determined to aid Neville in any way they could to get rid of Voldemort – for revenge for their son. "But – he's safe?" Lily demanded.

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, the Aurors did tell me that Neville is safe. But, as to the other students ... your guess is as good as mine."

* * *

Hermione was still completely unconvinced as to the two boys being new transfer students. "I've never heard of Hogwarts accepting transfers," she said.

Harry scoffed. "What school _doesn't_ allow transfer students?" he said, although secretly he had no idea about Hogwarts.

"Well, a lot, actually," said Hermione matter-of-factly. "Durmstrang, for instance –"

"My father wanted to send me there," said Draco absently, tapping on the arm rest and gazing out the window.

"Really?" said Harry and Hermione at the same time. Harry was surprised; he never knew this. Hermione just looked alarmed.

"That school is all about the Dark Arts! Why on earth did your father want to you go there?"

Draco stared at Hermione, his eyes narrowed. "The Dark Arts aren't terrible," he said aloofly.

"Yes they are!" she said indignantly. "Haven't you ever heard the reasons why they were banned in the first place?"

"No," said Draco, bored.

However, even though Draco hadn't asked for the reason, Hermione barrelled into a fifteen minute lecture on how the Dark Arts had come to be recognized as bad and why they were bad. She seemed to have forgotten that she was suspicious of the two she was lecturing.

Both boys tried to interrupt her several times, but she barrelled right over them, speaking faster and faster as she went.

When she had finished, Harry stared at her in awe. For a Hogwarts student, she sure knew a lot. "Where did you learn all of that?" he demanded. He was a little alarmed – she knew a lot about the Dark Magic that Voldemort had sworn was a rare knowledge.

She flushed. "I read a lot," she said.

Huh. So he guessed Hogwarts library did have a few books on the Dark Arts, but not wanting to reveal that he himself knew just as much about the Dark Arts, he changed the subject. "Erm, Helena –"

"It's Hermione."

"Whatever. Anyways, I've heard so much about Neville Longbottom – could you introduce him to us?"

She immediately returned to suspicion. "How do you know him?" she asked.

"Oh, my parents used to know his when they went to school and my mother used to tell quite funny stories about them," Harry said dismissively. "They haven't seen each other in several years, the war you know, and so I haven't seen him in ages."

Hermione still look suspicious but shrugged. "I suppose we could – Neville did mention having a friend named Harry a long time ago –" What luck, Harry thought, a little surprised – "I don't know where he and Ron are sitting ... do you guys want to go find them?"

The boys nodded and immediately got to their feet. Hermione led the way out of the compartment.

The train had mostly calmed down and most of the students had been shepherded into compartments instead of the hallways.

As they walked through the train, several girls turned to stare at Hermione in awe as she walked with two extremely good looking boys.

Harry felt slightly annoyed – couldn't they stop staring? It wasn't as if they were anyone important ... well, other than the fact that they were Death Eaters, the sons of two of the Innermost Death Eaters themselves, trapped on a train headed to Hogwarts with students and Aurors. No one special at all.

Finally, at one particular door, stood about three Aurors, looking very serious and stern. "Um," Hermione said nervously, coming to a stop. "Is this Neville's compartment?"

"Yeah, he's in there," one of the Aurors said. "You want to talk to him?"

Hermione nodded and the Auror knocked on the door and slid it open. There were five people inside; three boys with extremely red hair, two of whom who looked identical. There was another redhead, a girl, sitting beside brown haired, average looking boy.

The Auror looked at Neville, who nodded wearily. The Auror nodded in return and ushered Hermione, Harry and Draco in.

"Hey, guys," greeted Hermione, looking a little nervous.

The three boys with the red hair nodded at her, all with grave faces. The brunet boy managed a weak smile, but merely grunted a hello. The girl, however, said, "Hey, Hermione. Who is this?" She had bright brown eyes, but Harry could immediately tell who she was – a Weasley.

He was so not interested.

"Um," said Hermione, looking flustered and a little embarrassed, "This is Draco and Harry and they're starting this year."

"You look a little old to be in first year," commented the tallest redheaded boy, who looked to about Harry's age.

Harry rolled his eyes. "We were homeschooled before," he said shortly. "We're transferring in this year."

Hermione shot him a nasty look for being rude, but then said, "This is Ron Weasley." She gestured to the tall redhead, who was scowling at Harry. "Fred and George Weasley," Hermione continued, nodding to the twins. They didn't smile, but looked at Harry and Draco with thoughtful expressions. "And Ginny Weasley and Neville Longbottom."

The redhead girl, Ginny, smiled at the two boys, but Harry wasn't looking at her.

Neville Longbottom was a completely average looking teenager – a little pudgy, with a round face and ears that slightly stuck out.

Harry had to stop himself from staring at him – this was the Chosen One? He looked so average, Harry would've never guessed.

"Where were you guys during the attack?" asked George.

"I was in my compartment," Hermione said, her voice soft. "A few first years ran in and stayed with me for the whole time. They left when one of the Aurors came to tell us it was over. How about you?"

"We were in here," Ginny said. "The Aurors outside kept us safe for most of it, but we still locked and barricaded the door. What about you two?" she asked, directed to Harry and Draco.

Harry looked immediately to his cousin, who cleared his throat. "We were just in this compartment up near the front when it happened. We went out to see what was going on and just watched it all occur basically. Some kids came and got our compartment after we'd left, so we had nowhere to sit. So we found her –" He nodded at Hermione "– and sat with her."

Before anyone could ask any more questions about that iffy subject, Harry looked out the window, where the sky had just started to darken. "When will we be at Hogwarts?" he asked.

Everyone else looked up to the window. "About an hour or two," said Fred. "But, I think that the train is going as fast as it can now – because of the attack."

The compartment quieted and then Hermione said, in a small voice, "Have you heard anything about who was ..." She trailed off, not wanting to voice the word.

Ron shook his head. "No, but the Aurors were saying that they did a headcount earlier and found that five students who went out to fight are missing." He looked grim.

"Five?" whispered Ginny. "You didn't tell me it was five people!" She looked furious.

Harry was really starting to dislike these people, especially the Weasleys. Five people dead was nothing to be alarmed about – if it was twenty five, then yes, but not just five. And, after all, they were just students.

Fred and George looked eager to get off the topic and so they turned to Harry and Draco. "Have you guys heard about the Houses at Hogwarts?"

Harry snorted. "Of course," he said.

"Well, which one do you want to be in?"

"Slytherin," said Draco automatically, but Harry was more cautious than that.

From the expressions on everyone's face, Slytherin obviously wasn't a good house to want to fit into and if Harry wanted Neville's trust, then he had better play up to the fool.

"I don't know," said Harry. "Gryffindor, probably."

Draco shot his cousin an astonished look but Harry gave him a quick wink that everyone else missed. Except, however, for Ron.

He narrowed his eyes. "So you guys were homeschooled before?" he asked, rather unpleasantly.

Harry, who didn't like the redheaded boy, simply nodded and leaned back against the seat. He was aching to get out of this compartment full of Gryffindors, but didn't want to get on Longbottom's bad side

"You know," Ron said, who apparently disliked Harry as much as he did, "It's very odd how the year you two transfer in there's a Death Eater attack on the train."

His siblings all turned to look at Harry and Draco with the same accusing look. "That's right, Ron," said Fred slowly.

"Are you accusing us of something?" Harry asked softly. "Because, there is such a thing as a _coincidence._"

Hermione, who could obviously sense the tension in the compartment, said, "Well, should we go back to our compartment, shouldn't we?"

Harry and Draco stood and departed without another word. Hermione called after them, "I'll be another moment."

"Okay," said Harry, rolling his eyes. As if he cared about whether Hermione came or not.

* * *

When Bellatrix arrived at Riddle Manor, it was in a total uproar.

She was ambushed by several Death Eaters the moment she arrived. "What happened?" they demanded, as she pushed past them and into the house. "The Dark Lord is furious – what's happened? Bellatrix!"

"That's Madam Lestrange to you!" said Bellatrix shrilly, pushing past the final Death Eater and into the house.

She hurried to Voldemort's receiving room to find him sitting at his throne, massaging his temples and looking thoroughly pissed off. The other Death Eaters that had accompanied her on the mission to the Hogwarts Express were also there, kneeling and shaking slightly.

"My lord," she said, rushing to his side, only to be blown backwards by an invisible force. She stumbled into the wall (she would have a bruise on her back tomorrow) but did not fall.

Voldemort looked up with cold, merciless eyes.

"Death Eaters, you did not capture Neville Longbottom like I asked," he said, his voice like ice. He stood and started to pace, fast and furious. "_Failure is not an option_!" Voldemort suddenly shrieked, shaking the room with the decibels of his voice. "Neville Longbottom has once more slipped through my grasp! _Crucio_!"

Bellatrix tried not to scream as the tremendous strength of the Cruciatus Curse hit her. It felt as if her bones were breaking and all at once it felt like her heart was being ripped into two – the pain was almost as severe as the time she had thought her darling child was dead ... The Dark Lord held the curse for a long time before finally lifting it.

In the silence that descended onto the room, Voldemort spoke after a few moments. "It seems that we have three missing Death Eaters." He paused and then said, "Gibbon, I know, is dead ... but what of our youngest members? Bellatrix, Lucius ... have your sons suddenly vanished off the face of the earth ... they are not dead, I can tell ..."

"My lord," began Lucius, who was panting slightly from pain at the Cruciatus Curse. "They were on the train, going to get Longbottom, when the Aurors repaired the track and were able to get the train moving again. Henry and Draco are, as far as we know, still on the Hogwarts Express."

Before Voldemort could say anything, Bellatrix said, "We must get to them as soon as the train reaches Hogsmeade and bring them home –"

"No," said Voldemort, clearly. "They will not return to their homes, Bellatrix. This mission has been a complete disaster and your son and nephew will fix it." He held up a hand for silence as Bellatrix burst out a cry of horror. "They will attend Hogwarts, under the pretence that they have run away from home because they do not want to live the life of Death Eaters any longer. Dumbledore will believe their innocence because they are children and accept them into Hogwarts with open arms. You have taught them Occlumency, correct?"

Bellatrix nodded weakly; still unable to wrap her mind around the fact that Voldemort was not allowing her Henry to come home. "But – but they are not particularly skilled at it yet, my lord."

Voldemort frowned for a moment, but then waved it aside. "Their mediocre skill will have to do." He stood and began to pace. "Send your Patronus to them on the train and inform them of this change of plans. They are to befriend Longbottom and when they have gained his trust, deliver him to me."

Voldemort paused for a moment and then strode from the room. The Death Eaters all exchanged nervous looks, but none stood or made to leave, as Voldemort had not dismissed them. It was a good thing too, because the Dark Lord returned a few moments later, holding an intricate mirror.

He looked to Lucius and said, "Lucius, you will go to the station and give this to Henry. He will have to report to me once a month on their progress with Longbottom. That is all you are to do – they will have already been informed of their new mission and if they wish to return with you, you will tell them it is not allowed."

Lucius nodded and Voldemort gave him the mirror. It had no handle and had to be cradled in the palm of your hand. It was silvery but had black, thorny designs around the mirror surface.

"What is it, my lord?" Lucius asked curiously.

"It is a two way mirror," Voldemort said simply. "It will allow us to stay in contact while they are under Dumbledore's watch. Now, Bellatrix, go. Send your Patronus and tell the boys what has happened."

* * *

Harry and Draco returned to their compartment and while they were alone, Draco pulled up his sleeve and checked his Dark Mark. It was a vivid black, the skull clearly etched out.

"He's going to be furious," he muttered, rubbing the mark slightly.

"What is _that_?" said a startled voice from the doorway.

Draco quickly pulled his sleeve down and leaned back against the seat. "What is what?" he asked innocently.

"That _thing_ on your arm!" exclaimed Hermione. She was standing in the doorway, her mouth hanging open. "It looks like the –" Before she could say anything, Harry drew his wand and pointed it at her. She was instantly summoned to his side and the compartment door shut behind her, the small curtain over the glass pulling itself down.

Since Harry had summoned Hermione to his side and since she was obviously not used to being Summoned, she had stumbled down and fallen into the seat. However, she had quickly jumped up again and stood with her back to the window, shaking. She had drawn her wand and was pointing it at the two boys.

"Who are you two?" she demanded.

"Do you have to be so loud?" Harry demanded, pointing his wand at the door and saying, "_Muffliato_."

Hermione looked slightly alarmed and so she drew her wand. "Who are you?" she repeated, her grip on her wand firm.

"What is that supposed to mean?" said Harry quickly, pretending to be looking offended.

"Exactly what it sounds like," she snapped, narrowing her eyes. "Ron was right – you show up all of a sudden, the day that there happens to be a Death Eater attack –"

"So?" retorted Draco. "That was a coincidence, just like Henry said." Harry winced. He had never referred to himself as Henry in Hermione's presence, only as Harry, but thankfully it looked as if she hadn't noticed.

"Oh, really?" said Hermione scathingly. "A _coincidence_?"

Draco didn't have any reaction, just stared coolly back at the girl who looked both terrified and determined.

"What is it that you're saying, Harmony?" Harry asked, bored. All of this could simply be reversed with a small Memory Charm or Imperious Curse.

"It's Hermione," she snapped. "And I want to know why _he_ has the Dark Mark on his arm!" She pointed accusingly at Draco.

Draco opened his mouth to answer, but Harry said smoothly, "No, he doesn't."

Hermione rolled her eyes and hissed, "Yes he does! I saw it with my own eyes!"

"You're mistaken," Harry said. "What? Don't believe me? Don't you think I'd know if my own cousin was a Death Eater?"

Suddenly, a bright white light appeared in the compartment and all three yelped in alarm. A large cat suddenly appeared in the room, glowing silver. Harry immediately recognized the panther – it was Bellatrix's.

"Mother!" he exclaimed, forgetting that Hermione was in the compartment as well. "Are you coming to –"

Draco elbowed Harry and discreetly motioned to Hermione with his eyes.

"Henry, Draco," said the panther, speaking in Bellatrix's voice. Hermione stiffened; she obviously recognized the voice; after all, Bellatrix's insane lilt to her voice was hard to forget. "The Dark Lord will not allow me to come to Hogsmeade Station to pick you up."

Harry and Draco exchanged horrified looks and Draco said, "_What_?"

"He has a new mission for you; you are to remain at Hogwarts." Bellatrix's voice sounded strained and as if she was holding back a sob. "Lucius will meet you at Hogsmeade and deliver you a package from the Dark Lord that contains what you have to do and also has a means of communication in it. Unfortunately that is the only means of contact you will have with us. The Dark Lord wishes for you to tell Dumbledore that you have run away from home because you do not want to live the life of Death Eaters anymore –" At this Hermione let out a little yelp of alarm and made to move towards the door, but Draco swiftly stood and blocked it. "– You will probably have to use your Occlumency skills to get him to believe you, but I have faith that you will be able to do it." She paused and then added, "Good luck, Henry, darling. You too, Draco."

There was another bright flash of light and the panther disappeared.

Harry turned to his cousin to see Hermione was standing there, her mouth almost on the floor and was shaking.

"You're – you're Death Eaters!" she shouted, trying to run for the door, but Harry shot a quick Body-Binding Curse at her and she fell flat over, unable to move.

"Now, we can't have you blowing everything, can we?" said Harry quietly, his heart pounding at the news Bellatrix had just revealed.

"We should Oblivate her," Draco suggested. He looked rather pale and shocked at the news Bellatrix's Patronus had delivered.

Harry shook his head. "No, we've never learned how to do that properly."

"So?" Draco demanded. "Who cares?"

"I don't, but Dumbledore will suspect something when the girl shows up all loopy without a memory of who she is – remember that time we practiced on the prisoner in Riddle Manor?"

Draco grumbled and said, "That was an accident."

Harry sighed. "Okay, we'll just Imperiuse her –" Hermione's eyes grew even larger, but as she was frozen, she couldn't scream or make any sounds. "Here, hand me her wand and lock the door."

Draco nodded and with a wave of his wand, the door clicked lock and then he released the curse on Hermione. She shot to her feet immediately and said, loudly, "Don't touch me! DON'T TOUCH ME! Help!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "_Silencio_!" he said and instantly Hermione fell silent. "Now, be reasonable ... uh, what was your name again? Anyways, just calm down. Now, you heard that panther, and yes, it's true, my mother is Bellatrix Lestrange."

Hermione's eyes widened and she opened her mouth in a silent 'o' of terror.

"But, don't worry – what she said about 'being undercover at Hogwarts', or whatever it was, and all that isn't going to happen because ..." Here Harry sighed dramatically and continued, "Because she was right about one thing. The both of us have decided that the lives of Death Eaters are far too risky and we do want Dumbledore's protection." Here he shuddered and said, in a faraway voice, "You have no idea the horrors that the Dark Lord makes you do ..." He shook his head as if coming out of a trance and just happened to see Draco holding back chuckles at Harry's performance. "So if I remove this Silence spell, you won't start yelling again?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes and then nodded slowly. Harry waved his wand and the spell was lifted.

"I don't believe a word you just said," Hermione said immediately. "Besides the fact that this idiot here –" she motioned to Draco, who sobered immediately – "started to laugh his stupid head off as soon as you said you had turned away from You-Know-Who, you're a lousy liar."

Harry was offended – he was not a lousy liar. He shot a dark look at Draco, who was flushing with shame at being the reason Hermione had not bought Harry's excuse.

"And, as soon as I get off the train, I'm going straight to Dumbledore and telling him about you two."

"You wouldn't dare do that," said Harry smoothly.

Hermione looked shocked. "And why not?" she demanded.

"Because if you take one step towards Dumbledore, I'll just kill you," said Harry, as calmly as if he was telling Hermione to pass the pudding.

She paled. "No, you won't," she whispered.

"Really?" said Harry, smirking slightly. "_Crucio_!"

The spell hit Hermione directly in the chest and she collapsed to the floor with a piercing scream, writhing and twitching.

Harry lifted the curse after a few moments, leaving the girl lying on the floor, shaking. Finally, she looked up at Harry.

"Fine," she said, her voice shaking. "Just kill me then – I'm sure you can pass my death off as having happened in the Death Eater attack." Suddenly, she paused. "But, you can't do that, can you? I took you two to meet Ron and Neville and all of them and so they'll know right away that anything that happened to me would've had to have happened after the battle was over. And that would just completely blow your cover."

Huh. She was right. Damn it.

Harry and Draco exchanged a quick look and then lowered their wands. "Fine. Now, we've both got blackmail to use against each other," said Draco. "So we're even."

Hermione snorted. "What blackmail do you have against me?"

"Well, it's not _blackmail_ necessarily, just a threat of death. That should keep you quiet, shouldn't it?"

She narrowed her eyes and didn't say anything for a few moments. "I'd rather die," she whispered.

Although Harry desperately did want to kill her for finding out that they were Death Eaters, he very well couldn't. It would blow their cover and, if he had guessed right, their job was going to be to get to know Neville Longbottom better and with Hermione already knowing him, it would be easier. And ... well, Harry had to admit she was smart and could help them out if they got her on their side.

"No," said Harry simply.

"No?" said Hermione and Draco, both a little surprised.

"No," Harry confirmed. At her bewildered look, he clarified, "You're much to amusing to kill ... um ...."

"Hermione," she snapped, finishing his sentence. "And thanks _so _much," she added dryly.

"But I _will _kill you if you breathe one word about us," he threatened. He paused. "And to make sure ... Draco, come here." Draco strode forward and stood beside Harry quizzically. Harry bent down beside Hermione and grasped her hand tightly.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked, trying to pull away, but she wasn't strong enough.

"Draco, we're going to do an Unbreakable Vow –" Hermione yelped and tried to tug away, but couldn't – "You'll be the Bonder."

Draco nodded and drew his wand.

"Sit up," Harry said roughly, pulling Hermione towards him and off lying on her side.

Draco kneeled on the floor in front of Hermione and Harry and pointed his wand at their grasped hands.

"Wait –" Hermione said, sounding panicked. "You can't make me do this!"

Harry smiled evilly. "It's this or a very painful death, girl. Now choose."

She looked terrified and made no movement. Harry took that as a yes, and he asked, "What's your name again?"

"It's Hermione Granger," Draco told Harry when Hermione said nothing.

Harry nodded. "Okay. Let's go, Draco." Draco pressed his wand to the grasped hands.

"Do you, Hermione Granger, vow that you will not tell anyone that Draco and I are Death Eaters?"

Hermione said nothing, but Harry clenched her hand tightly and Draco muttered, "Cruciatus Curse..."

"I will," she said finally, through tight teeth.

A tongue of fire shot from Draco's wand and wrapped itself around Harry and Hermione's hands.

Harry watched with fascination; he'd never seen an Unbreakable Vow done before. "Do you, Hermione Granger, vow that you will help us in the deed that has been assigned to us?"

Hermione gave Harry an extremely dirty look before muttering, "I will."

Another jet of fire shot of the wand and encircled their palms once more.

"Do you, Hermione Granger, agree to do everything we say in regards to this deed, to aid us in any way you can?"

This time she took a long time to answer. Finally, she murmured, "I will."

One final flame encircled their wrists. It burned brightly for several moments, although Harry couldn't feel it scorching him at all. Hermione watched it with a morbid face and when the fire finally turned into a dark glowing ember and finally disappeared, her face became even darker.

Harry released her hand and Hermione immediately backed away from him, leaning against the seat on the floor with her head in her hands. The cousins stood and Harry chanced a glance out the window and saw that it was very dark out now and he could just faintly see the twinkling of lights in the background. Harry, who had once wished to go to Hogwarts, was now thinking desperately of his mother in Lestrange Manor where he should be.

Draco was apparently having thoughts along the same lines because he looked up at his cousin and said, "Well, this is definitely going to be an interesting year."

* * *

Lily had arrived with the rest of the teachers at Hogsmeade Station and was waiting anxiously for the train to arrive.

She was trying hard not to think about what would happen if Jason was one of the five missing students and had so far succeeded.

Finally, a loud train horn sounded and from around the turn about a kilometre away appeared a small light from the train

The kilometre trip of the train seemed to take forever. Lily watched with bated breath as the train came to a halt at Hogsmeade Station. Almost immediately, the doors burst open and students came pouring out.

Professor McGonagall immediately took charge. "Everyone to your Head of Houses, immediately! First years, Hagrid will accompany you to the castle where you will quickly be Sorted and sent off to your Houses."

The Hufflepuffs immediately flocked to Professor Sprout and she whisked them away, followed by Snape and the Slytherins. Professor Sinistra, who had been the Ravenclaw Head of House since Flitwick retired, led the Ravenclaws away after they'd all joined her, but Professor McGonagall remained behind for a few moments, talking with the Aurors with grave faces.

Lily spotted a familiar head of hair standing with the Gryffindors and her heart leapt with joy. Forgetting the fact that Jason hated his mother making any fuss over him while at school, she ran over to him and gave him the tightest hug she had ever given him.

"_Mum_," said the exasperated voice of Jason from Lily's robes. "Really, I'm okay. You can let go of me now."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes, now _please _let me go." Lily released her son and quickly scanned his entire body for any sign of harm. Apart from being very pale and shaken looking, he was fine. She kept her arm around him for a few minutes.

"And you're all right, Melinda?" Lily asked, addressing Jason's best friend. The little blond girl nodded and shivered, looking up at the castle longingly.

From the corner of Lily's eye, she spotted two boys standing with another Gryffindor girl Lily knew well named Hermione Granger. One of them, the dark haired one, had just finished slipping something into his pocket and was staring at a seemingly invisible spot with a morose expression.

Professor McGonagall also spotted these two boys and hurried over to them. Hermione said something to her and she nodded along with her for a few minutes. Hermione herself looked sick and very pale and she kept giving the dark haired boy a disgusted (and was that fear?) look.

"Very well," Professor McGonagall said, after Hermione had finished, her voice carrying over to where Lily stood. She sounded very disapproving. "Miss Granger, please rejoin the Gryffindors. Boys, follow me."

Professor McGonagall led the two boys over to where Lily stood with her son and Melinda. "Professor Potter will take you two up to see Professor Dumbledore," McGonagall stated, smiling gravelly at Lily.

Lily took her arm off from around Jason's shoulder and nodded at Professor McGonagall. "Yes, of course. Follow me, please."

She started off to the castle, the two boys trailing along in silence behind her. The dark haired one looked vaguely familiar, but Lily couldn't place her finger on where from, she kept silent.

The Thestral drawn carriages had almost completely gone and one remained for Lily and the two boys to take. Others, Lily could see, were on their way back from dropping off the Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, Slytherins and first years (for they would not travel on the lake this year).

Lily climbed up onto the carriages and looked to the boys. The two boys both stared at something for a few minutes and the blond one muttered, "Thestrals."

Lily was startled – these two could see the Thestrals? You could only see them if you had seen someone die and Lily was surprised that two fifteen year olds had seen someone die. But then, of course, they had just been on a train that had gotten attacked, with several of their fellow students getting murdered, so that must be why.

She suddenly felt a rush of sympathy for the two of them – no wonder they were so silent.

They clambered up as well and sat side by side, each with miserable expressions.

Suddenly, Lily recognized the boy.

"I saw you at Diagon Alley, didn't I?" said Lily, as the carriage started forward.

The black haired boy shrugged and muttered, "Yeah, I think so."

Sensing that they weren't in the mood to talk, Lily fell silent. Both boys were watching the approaching school with expressionless faces.

Once they arrived at the school, Lily led them up countless staircases, the boys looking more and more miserable as they went.

Finally, they reached Dumbledore's office and Lily said, "Acid Pops." The stone gargoyle sprung to life and she led them in.

She paused outside the door, almost making the two boys crash into her. She knocked and a tired voice said, "Come in."

Lily pushed the door open to reveal a magnificent office, with hundreds of portraits on the walls and a bright phoenix perched on a birdcage in the corner.

The two boys automatically stiffened as the same tired voice spoke. "Thank you, Lily. You may go see to the first years with Hagrid, if you wish."

Lily nodded and departed from the room, giving the two boys a small smile as she did.

After the redheaded teacher left, (who Harry recognized as Lily Potter, one of the Order members who had freed Sirius Black several years ago), Harry and Draco were left alone in their enemy's office.

Dumbledore's soft voice spoke from a little balcony above his desk. "Well, well, who do we have here?"

* * *

A/N: The end of another chapter and you know what that means! Please, please review! Oh and I have a quick question for everyone out there – I got a review that says 'flott saga' ... I don't know what that means!? I put it into Google translate and it came back as being Hungarian meaning 'valid saga' ... I'm still confused!

Oh and a Happy Holidays to everyone who reads this story!!! This is my present to you and so if everyone who reads writes a review for me, that would be fantastical!

Happy Holidays!


	10. Hogwarts

A/N: Thanks so much for all the reviews everyone! It means a so much to me! An extra tidbit of thanks to Tempete Sanguine for submitting the 100th review! And a special thanks goes out to Fancy Piece of Work – you know why!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to the wonderful JK Rowling.

**Chapter Ten – Hogwarts **

Harry and Draco looked up sharply as Dumbledore descended the stairs.

Harry had never met Dumbledore personally; only heard the Dark Lord's stories about the old fool.

The Hogwarts Headmaster was very old, with a long white beard and twinkling blue eyes hidden behind half moon glasses. Harry immediately threw up his mind shields, as he could feel Dumbledore probing around in his mind. The shields were shaky, but he was strong enough to keep Dumbledore at bay. Immediately, the tendrils that had snaked from Dumbledore's mind retracted.

"I never thought I'd see Henry Lestrange and Draco Malfoy within the walls of Hogwarts," said Dumbledore, frowning slightly. He continued down the stairs and went to sit behind a magnificent desk, just in front of a beautiful phoenix, sitting in its cage and staring at Harry and Draco with one black, expressionless eye."But, you have proven me wrong," Dumbledore continued, motioning to the two boys to take the seats in front of his desk.

The boys sat down and Dumbledore looked at the boys with a thoughtful expression from where he had sat down as well, behind the magnificent desk.

"Why don't you two explain why you are here and why you arrived on the eve of a Death Eater attack." It wasn't a question.

"Well, you see, sir," began Draco, for it had been a silent agreement that Draco would do the talking, "Because of who our parents are, the Dark Lord is sure that we're going to be these great Death Eaters ... but –"

"Has he made you Death Eaters yet?" Dumbledore asked sharply, his eyes flickering to Draco's forearm.

"No," Harry lied, clearly. Dumbledore's eyes shifted to him. "We're only fifteen."

Dumbledore frowned and seemed to think about this. "I can understand why he would want you to join... Anyways, excuse my interruption, please continue."

Draco cleared his throat. "Well, you see, it's ... _wrong_ what he's doing ... all the killing, the tortures..." Draco shook his head and then added, "That's probably why the Death Eaters attacked the train, sir. Because we were on it."

Dumbledore looked surprised. Secretly, Harry was as well, but he went along with it.

"What do you mean?" Dumbledore asked, immediately, his voice a little suspicious.

"Well," said Draco, "the Dark Lord probably sent the Death Eaters after us to stop us from getting to Hogwarts where we'd be safe. After all, our parents are his favourites – we're set to be the next leaders of his army; he wouldn't want us to abandon him." That was the truth – Voldemort was certain that Harry and Draco would be key figures in his new world.

Dumbledore said nothing for a few minutes, just stared at the two boys intently. Finally, Harry spoke up. "We really don't want to go back to him, sir." Not to the Dark Lord in particular, but to their families. He lowered his mind shields just slightly, enough for Dumbledore to see that he was sincere.

The Headmaster nodded at Harry's comment, but still said, "Forgive me if I do not believe you ... other than your words, what proof do you have?"

"Do you have a Pensieve?" Draco asked.

Dumbledore looked a little surprised but nodded. "Yes, it's right here." He led Draco, Harry following the both of them, over to a cabinet in which a glowing Pensieve sat.

Draco drew his wand and placed it to his forehead, retracting a silvery stream that was a memory. He placed it into the Pensieve and looked to Dumbledore, his eyes expressionless.

Dumbledore's eyes flickered from Draco to the Pensieve and then he leaned closer to it. With a snap, Dumbledore vanished into the memory.

The moment he was gone, Harry said, "What are you showing him?"

"A memory," Draco said calmly.

"No, really? Which one?"

Draco looked right at his cousin, his eyes cold and revealing nothing. "Don't worry about it, Henry," he said curtly. "I've got it covered."

Harry was rather surprised that Draco wasn't going to tell him what it was and, furious, he opened his mouth to retort, but at that moment Dumbledore re-emerged from the Pensieve.

Dumbledore's eyes were full of sorrow as he looked at Draco, who stared back at the Headmaster with his cold eyes.

"There's your proof," Draco said quietly.

The Headmaster returned to his desk and the two boys followed him back to their own seats. "I am happy that you two have come to this conclusion," Dumbledore said eventually, smiling sadly. "Well, of course you may remain at Hogwarts, but under one condition. You must promise me that you won't become Death Eaters."

Since they were already Death Eaters, Harry and Draco had no problem agreeing to this. "I promise," they both said.

Dumbledore nodded and continued. "Wonderful. Now, we must see to your Houses. Follow me, please. The Sorting took place very quickly in the Great Hall this evening and the first years should be about done."

Dumbledore stood and Harry and Draco followed him out of his office, Draco purposely avoiding Harry's gaze.

They walked all the way down to the Great Hall and passed several students on their way there, most of whom pointed excitedly at Dumbledore.

When they reached the Great Hall, the Hall was nearly empty as students from second year on hadn't gone to the Great Hall at all this evening. Near the front of the hall, in front of four huge tables, a large man was standing there, watching the final three students get Sorted. He was at least eight feet tall, with a huge mane of bushy hair and beetle black eyes. Beside him was Professor Potter, who smiled rather tentatively at the two boys at they entered.

The large man nodded at Dumbledore, his eyes flickering a question to who the two boys were. Dumbledore just barely shook his head and continued to watch the three first years get Sorted. Two of the boys hurried off to Ravenclaw and the girl clambered out of the hall after them, off to Gryffindor Tower.

"Who do yeh have here, Professor?" asked the big man, with a thick accent.

"This, Hagrid, is Henry Lestrange and Draco Malfoy."

Hagrid's expression was priceless. He turned bright purple with horror and whispered, "Lestrange? Malfoy?" in a very funny voice.

Professor Potter also had a funny reaction – she paled and her mouth dropped open, her rather large emerald eyes nearly popping out of her head.

Harry coughed loudly to cover his laughter.

"Yes," said Dumbledore, frowning at Hagrid. "But, it is not what you are thinking, Hagrid. They escaped from their homes and have come to Hogwarts to seek asylum. They are not with Voldemort. Bellatrix and Lucius have kept their sons sheltered their entire life and most don't even know that they do each have a son." Dumbledore turned to Harry and Draco. "And I hope that you two will keep the identity of your parents' a secret, as well."

Harry and Draco nodded and Dumbledore looked back to Hagrid.

"Hagrid?"

Hagrid still looked a little scared, but nodded, trusting Dumbledore's decision. "So yeh need to be Sorted?" he asked Harry and Draco after a few moments.

The boys shrugged but Dumbledore said, "Yes."

Professor Potter, who had been holding the old Sorting hat handed it to Draco, who, after shooting a grim look to his cousin, placed it on his head.

The Hat took barely a few seconds to decide for Draco before calling out, "_SLYTHERIN_!"

Even though Draco had just basically finalized that he was now a Hogwarts student, he still managed to smirk at his cousin for getting Sorted into Slytherin.

"Your turn, Henry," said Draco, referring to his cousin formally now that they were with Hogwarts staff.

Harry took the hat and placed it on his head.

"_You_?" said a little voice in Harry's ear. It sounded surprised. Harry was also surprised – this hat seemed to know who he was, even though he really was no one of importance that a Hat should know who he was._ "I never thought I'd Sort you ... hmm, where to put you? Slytherin seems the obvious choice seeing as your upbringing, but ... I think another House would suit you better._"

What? Harry thought, panicking inside.

"_Nothing to worry about, no nothing at all ... but yes, Slytherin would be a good choice... but you belong to a different path._ _GRYFFINDOR_!"

NO!!!!!

The expressions on Draco's, Hagrid's, Professor Potter's and Dumbledore's faces were priceless.

* * *

This was the worst day Harry had ever had in his life. First, they get trapped on the Hogwarts Express. Then told that they're going to Hogwarts to try to kill Longbottom. Then Draco acts all secretive about whatever his stupid memory that he showed Dumbledore was. And, the best of all, he was Sorted into Gryffindor. Gryffindor!

To top it all off, Harry was lost. Desperately lost.

Hogwarts was one big maze. Dumbledore had told him the directions to Gryffindor Tower, as well, as the password but that did absolutely nothing for Harry. The staircases bloody moved, the portraits moved about and talked to each other, making a landmark extremely hard to keep track of.

The hat must be off its rocker, Harry thought darkly, as he rounded a corner. Putting me in Gryffindor!

Unforunately, as he was climbing the stairs, his leg suddenly sunk into one of the steps, making him holler in alarm and topple over.

As he angrily yanked his leg out of the step and kicked a suit of armour for good measure as he passed, he couldn't help but think that this day just kept getting worse and worse.

* * *

"All right, everyone," McGonagall shouted, over the loud noise in the Gryffindor Common Room. She had just ushered in the last of the newly Sorted first years and was looking incredibly grim. "Organize yourselves into your years, please, we need to take a head count."

The Common Room instantly quieted and sorted itself into the appropriate years. Hermione, who was sitting with the Weasleys and Neville, fell silent in the middle of her explanation as to where Harry and Draco had gone and went to stand near Dean and Seamus.

Professor McGonagall started with the first years, the ones who had just arrived. Then on from there all the way up to seventh.

She frowned while reading out one of the seventh year names. "Victoria Frobisher? Has anyone seen her?"

No one said anything, but one girl spoke, through a choked voice, "I haven't seen her since the attack."

Professor McGonagall's lips went thin. She nodded tightly after a few moments and said, "Thank you, Angelina." She paused and then added, "Kevin Bundy and Benjamin Dunstan from Ravenclaw and Harold Dingle and Melanie Summers are also missing."

Everyone gasped and a few people started to cry, especially Angelina who burst into tears. Five people were dead? Five?

Hermione was in shock – she hadn't thought that anyone she knew (she'd spoken to Victoria several times about Arithmancy and Ancient Runes) would've been killed.

At that moment, the portrait hole swung open and everyone turned to look, surprised. For a wild moment, the same thought flickered through everyone's head: was it Victoria?

But no, it was a tall dark haired boy who entered, looking thoroughly pissed off.

Hermione's mouth fell open – Henry Lestrange was in Gryffindor!? What the –

Henry ignored the entirety of the Common Room and sulked over to an empty armchair, throwing himself down and staring angrily at the fire roaring in the fireplace.

Professor McGonagall narrowed her eyes at the boy and cleared her throat. "Lestrange? What are you doing here?"

Immediately, whispers broke out about Henry's last name.

"Lestrange?"

"As in Bellatrix Lestrange?"

"You don't think that's her kid, do you?"

Henry narrowed his eyes at the whispers and, if it was possible, looked even more pissed off.

"What do you think?" Harry snapped. "The Sorting Hat put me here." He shook his head, disgusted.

* * *

"Dumbledore, you can't be serious!" said Professor McGonagall, her face pale. "You're letting two sons of Death Eaters attend Hogwarts?"

"Yes, Minerva," said Dumbledore calmly, shuffling a few papers on his desk. "They have given me sufficient reason as to why they have come to Hogwarts."

McGonagall looked like she thought Dumbledore was insane.

"This is an unwise decision, Dumbledore," added Snape, who was looking very unpleasant today. "I've seen it with my own eyes; the boys were raised in Voldemort's headquarters and I assume that the Dark Lord has made them Death Eaters already."

McGonagall went even paler. "If Snape is correct, they've grown up with You-Know-Who; they're going to know how to lie, Albus!"

Dumbledore said nothing. "I am not about to turn them away, Minerva. They have come to Hogwarts seeking asylum and have even given me a proper excuse as to why the Death Eaters attacked the train."

"Oh, really?" said McGonagall scathingly. "And you believed them, Dumbledore? For Merlin's sake, Albus – one of them is Bellatrix Lestrange's boy!"

Dumbledore stood to his full height and said, "Minerva, Severus, please. Do you not trust my judgement? I talked with the boys myself and I honestly sensed that there was something good about those boys. Their innocence was destroyed by Voldemort, and, I assuming, Bellatrix and Lucius. It is apparent to me that Draco and Henry do not wish to become Death Eaters any longer. Besides, if they had just gotten onto the train during the Death Eater attack, do you not think that they would've bolted as soon as the train reached Hogsmeade Station?"

McGonagall and Snape didn't say anything, although both looked extremely distrustful.

"And what happens if it turns out that they are Death Eaters, Dumbledore?" asked Snape softly.

Dumbledore sighed and didn't answer, just rubbed his temples.

* * *

The Gryffindor Common Room was in an uproar.

"What's Dumbledore playing at?" demanded George Weasley loudly. Several people shouted out their agreement. "Letting a Lestrange into Hogwarts, let alone Gryffindor?"

The moment McGonagall had shown Henry the dorm room he had disappeared and had not returned, not even to eat the dinner that had been brought to Gryffindor Tower.

"He's off his rocker!" roared Lee Jordan, getting several rounds of applause from the Common Room.

"He's probably the bastard who killed Victoria!" shouted Angelina Johnson, through her tears at the death of her friend.

"Yeah!" bellowed several people.

"And who's to say he's not up there planning to kill all of us?" said Fred.

Arguments continued well into the night and were only stopped when McGonagall stormed in and threatened everyone with detention if they didn't shut up and go to sleep.

The fifth year boys all banded together and headed up to their dormitory as one. Ron opened the door, but saw that the new bed that had been added had the curtains drawn tightly around it and the room was dead silent.

All of them were apprehensive about going to sleep with a probable Death Eater in the room, but after such an exhausting day they all fell asleep eventually.

* * *

Harry lay awake long into the night, staring up at the ceiling and thinking of his own warm bed at home at Lestrange Manor.

He had been able to hear the shouts from the Gryffindor Common Room and was secretly pleased that they were so afraid of him.

Harry rolled over and saw, through the little crack in his curtains, the two way mirror that Lucius had delivered to him sitting on his nightstand. He had spoken to Voldemort the moment he'd gotten up to his dorm room and the Dark Lord had told him that his and Draco's new mission. Befriend Longbottom and then once they'd gained his trust, deliver him to Voldemort.

By the time Harry finally drifted off to sleep, with dreams of being home with Bellatrix and the annoying house-elves, the other boys had already fallen asleep a good three hours ago.

* * *

The next day no lessons were held, to allow students to mourn for their friends who'd been killed.

Harry had awoken early and headed to the Great Hall immediately. He got lost on the way but a Ravenclaw who obviously didn't know who he was pointed him in the right direction.

He walked in and saw Draco sitting by himself at the Slytherin table, eating a bowl of cereal with a look of disgust on his face.

Harry had almost completely forgotten about Draco not telling Harry about the memory, because he had much too important other things on his mind. Harry walked over to him and plopped down on the seat opposite him, making Draco jump.

"I can't believe you're in Gryffindor," was Draco's greeting. He said it a little smugly.

Harry sighed loudly. "Just think of it this way – I'll be able to get to know Longbottom better. Oh, yeah, I have to tell you what ..." he dropped his voice to a whisper "the Dark Lord said."

"Oh?" said Draco, looking interested, but also, strangely, a little annoyed. "What?"

"Not here. I'll tell you later."

Draco nodded, barely holding back his rolling of the eyes.

A large crowd of students suddenly entered and both boys looked up. Hermione was among those entering. Harry and Draco watched her in silence as she got a seat by herself at the Gryffindor table and began to butter her toast. She apparently felt someone's eyes on her because she glanced up and scowled at Harry and Draco.

"I don't think she likes us much," Draco noted, who couldn't help himself from grinning.

Harry laughed. "Yeah, well, we did force her to Vow to help us." He shook his head and grinned. "I'd hate us too."

* * *

Bellatrix woke up in Lestrange Manor the day after Henry had been taken by the Hogwarts Express in a foul mood.

For the first time that she could remember, she was angry with the Dark Lord. She wanted her son back home desperately but Voldemort refused to hear it.

He had allowed her today off, mostly because he was sick of her complaints and would end up killing her soon if she didn't shut it and he would just regret that later.

And besides that, Voldemort was refusing to let her contact Henry, or even Draco. He wanted their cover story to be as legitimate as possible and that meant no contact with her son or nephew.

It infuriated Bellatrix to no end, but she'd managed to plead a Hogsmeade weekend meeting with them in a few months, under the condition that she was in disguise.

She was currently sitting at the dining room table, stabbing at her meal with more than usual vigour. She'd agreed to meet Narcissa and Lucius later tonight – Narcissa had been hysterical with worry about Draco the moment she'd found out and Bellatrix supposed that she had to go and comfort her, even though she was going to smack her sister if she didn't shut up soon – Bellatrix had lost her son too.

* * *

Jason and Melinda headed down to breakfast late, both very glum about the loss of Victoria. Jason hadn't known her well, but Melinda had talked to her on occasion and was very upset.

They ate very little at breakfast among the quiet Gryffindors. The Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables were also quiet, but Slytherin table seemed completely normal.

Jason looked over to them as a loud roar of laughter reached his ears. He saw Henry Lestrange roaring with laughter at something a silvery blond boy had said, sitting at the Slytherin table. He wasn't surprised in the least that Lestrange had decided to sit with the Slytherins. He had looked furious last night about being in Gryffindor.

"Hey, Jason, Melinda," greeted a voice from behind him. They turned to see Neville Longbottom and Ron Weasley standing there. "Can we sit?"

"Sure," said Jason, sliding over to make room. Neville headed to the other side of the table and Ron sat beside Jason.

Ron spotted Lestrange and his expression positively darkened. "I can't believe that those two are going here now. I mean, it's obvious they're Death Eaters."

"How can you tell?" asked Melinda, curiously.

Ron shrugged. "It's just the way that Lestrange acted when he came in to the Common Room last night. All high and mighty and 'I'm the best'." Ron shook his head, disgusted.

"That could just be because he's a Lestrange and his whole family was Slytherins," Jason pointed out.

Ron shook his head stubbornly. "No, I bet they're Death Eaters."

"Death Eaters?" Melinda said, startled. "They can't be older than you, though, Ron. You think You Know Who is gonna let two teens join him?"

"Who's to say?" Ron said darkly. "He's probably getting desperate – this war has been going on forever it feels like."

Neville nodded solemnly in agreement. "Yeah," agreed Jason. "You'd think that You-Know-Who would just die of old age already."

Ron, Neville and Melinda snorted with laughter and agreed. Melinda looked over to the boys and asked, "Who's the blond one?"

Ron and Neville shrugged. "Probably some Death Eater crony of Lestrange. They were on the train with Hermione –"

"She was sitting with them?" said Jason, surprised. "Hermione Granger?" He looked over to where Hermione sat, engrossed in a book she'd propped up against a basket of toast. She had a dark scowl on her face and seemed to be stabbing her eggs with more vigour than usual.

The other three glanced over to Hermione, who didn't notice them and absently flipped a page in her book.

"Maybe she's just really lonely and had no one to talk to," Melinda suggested.

"She could talk to us!" Ron said quickly. "I mean, well ... she is really irritating most of the time, but we're better than Lestrange, right Neville?"

Neville nodded. "Completely."

* * *

Draco looked away from the Gryffindor table and his eyes swung about the room. They rested on the staff table and, with a jolt, recognized the man sitting next to Dumbledore. He had a spinning blue, electric blue eye which was surveying the room amazingly fast.

"Henry!" Draco hissed, his eyes widening. Draco dropped his toast in his shock and seemed to completely forget that, for whatever reason it was, that he was mad at Harry.

"What?" Harry said, looking around in surprise.

"Look! That's Mad Eye Moody!" Draco said, angling his head in the direction of the teacher's table.

Harry choked on his orange juice. "What? Where?"

"Up there, sitting next to Dumbledore."

Harry shot quick glance over his shoulder and his mouth fell open. "He's one of the ones who burned down the Dark Lord's house all those years ago!"

Draco looked like he was deep in thought. He grinned evilly. "I have an idea. Come on, let's go for a walk."

Harry nodded and they both headed to the doorway, and to get to which you had to pass the Gryffindor table.

The group that contained Longbottom fell silent immediately as they passed, all of them shooting dark looks at Harry as they did. Hermione also looked up from her book and gave them a darker look than Longbottom's group combined.

Once in the Entrance Hall, Harry and Draco headed out the main doors and onto the grounds. It was still early, but as it was just the 2nd of September, the air still contained all of its August heat.

They found a secluded little area near a random hut which Harry assumed was the giant Hagrid's house and cast the appropriate protection and silence spells over themselves, as they'd been taught to do.

"Tell me what the Dark Lord said first," Draco ordered, sitting down against a tree.

Harry felt a twinge of annoyance at his cousin's tone. "He wants us to befriend Longbottom and then deliver him to him when we've gained his trust."

Draco nodded. "I figured that would be what it was. Shouldn't be that hard, should it? After all, you are in Gryffindor with him."

"Yeah," Harry said slowly. "But, they were up all night complaining and shouting about me being in Gryffindor. It's going to take them time to accept it, I bet." Harry shook his head, disgusted. "Anyways, what were you saying about Moody?"

"Oh yeah, I was thinking, we should find out a way to kill Moody to get back into the Dark Lord's good graces!"

"What?" Harry said, so surprised he almost fell over.

"Yes, kill him. It's brilliant! But the only thing is ... this is Mad Eye Moody we're talking about – you've heard what my dad has says about him. He's really good at fighting."

Harry laughed. "Come on, Draco. We were trained by the Dark Lord himself in the Dark Arts! And besides, the stronger the Moody is – the more respect we'll get for actually having killed him."

Draco's face spread into a grin. "That's right! How would we do it though?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know – we'll come up with something." Harry snapped his fingers. "Why don't we get Granger to help us? She definitely won't want to help us kidnap Longbottom – yet anyways –" he grinned evilly, "but she can help us with this."

Draco made a face of agreement, nodding his head. "We could start with poisons – that will keep our cover and it is a way of murder."

Harry nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, that's great! And this will probably get Granger to trust us more. It's really obvious that she doesn't have any friends; she's always alone – if we're her first friends then she'll help us easily. Gryffindors are loyal and once she's on our side, it'll all be fine – we can off Moody and kidnap Longbottom."

Loyalty was a big factor to Harry. There had been one time, when he, Bellatrix, Rabastan and the Dark Lord had been eating dinner on one of the few times that Voldemort had actually allowed the Lestranges to eat with him, where Voldemort had casually said that his most effective Death Eaters were the ones who were completely loyal to him – such as the Lestranges.

Chances are that the same thing would apply here – if Hermione was loyal to them, believed in what they were doing – then it would be a lot easier.

"Should we talk to her now?" Harry asked.

Draco shook his head. "No, not yet. We should specifically plan out what we want to do to Moody first, then get her help."

Harry nodded in accord. "Sounds good to me."

* * *

Wednesday, the next day, was when lessons began and Harry was dreading having to go to all of the Hogwarts' classes – there was no doubt that he and Draco would be extremely far ahead.

He was sitting with the Slytherins for breakfast when a very angry looking Professor McGonagall stormed up to him.

"Lestrange, to your own table," she snapped, thrusting a piece of paper at him.

"What's this?" Harry asked rudely, taking it.

"Your schedule," she said shortly. "Now, get back over to the Gryffindors and watch your tongue."

Harry rolled his eyes pointedly, and muttered to Draco, "See you later," before standing and going over to join the Gryffindors.

The people he sat beside instantly stopped their conversations and stared uneasily at him. Finally, Harry looked up at a young dark haired girl and barked, "What?"

She looked away hurriedly, muttering, "Nothing," under her breath.

Harry, who had already eaten while at the Slytherin table, looked at his schedule. First thing was Herbology, whatever the hell that was. Then Charms right before lunch and directly after lunch was a free period. Then he had some class called Ancient Runes.

A bell rang and the Great Hall started to empty as students headed off to their classes. Harry spotted Draco being led out by a reddish blond haired girl. He winked and Harry laughed.

Harry had no idea where Herbology was, but Longbottom had already left and was walking with Weasley and Hermione near the doors to the hall.

Sighing dejectedly about what he would have to do, Harry stood and quickly caught up to the three Gryffindors.

"Hey, Lo-Neville, can you show me where the Herbology classroom is?" he asked, after tapping Longbottom on the shoulder.

"Uh, sure," said Longbottom, looking a little confused. "It's outside."

Weasley shot Harry a dirty look, as did Hermione.

Harry followed the Gryffindors for a few steps with them barely saying a word to him. Deciding that he would have to be more social to become friends with Longbottom, Harry spoke up.

"So, what do we do in Herbology?"

"Learn about plants and their properties and how to take care of them," Longbottom said. "It's really interesting."

_Well that's the stupidest class ever_, thought Harry. "Oh," he said. "Uh, cool."

"Did you learn anything about Herbology when you were homeschooled?" Longbottom asked.

Harry shook his head. "No, we mostly learned about spells and potions and stuff like that." He figured it would probably be a bad idea to mention the Dark Arts to these three so he left it out.

"Who taught you?" Weasley asked, unable to keep his curiosity out of his voice.

"My mother," said Harry. "And my aunt and both of my uncles." He left out Voldemort too because that would definitely be a bad idea to mention.

The three Gryffindors exchanged a nervous look, but said nothing.

The four of them arrived at the greenhouses and the Gryffindors led the way in, Harry followed glumly behind them.

The class sat around a huge table, with many different plants on the table making it hard to put anything down on the table. For Harry, this was his first class with students other than his cousin and he was actually (though he'd never admit it) interested in how traditional schools worked.

Finally, the teacher of this class, Professor Sprout, appeared and said, "Welcome to Herbology everyone! All right, let's get started." She looked a little upset; her eyes were ringed in red. Harry had heard that she was the Head of the Hufflepuff house and that two of the dead students had been from her house.

Professor Sprout whipped out a list and began to take attendance. She briefly narrowed her eyes when taking attendance and reaching Harry's name, but said nothing.

Once she had completed, she rolled the list up and it promptly disappeared. "All right, everyone, please take a look at the plants in front of you." Most people leaned forward, interested, but Harry just sighed and looked, bored, out the window.

"Now, there are four different types of plants on this table ..."

For the rest of the class, Harry learned more about plants than he ever had before – and it was a total waste of time.

After Professor Sprout (who Harry was learning was embracing the idea of a Hufflepuff being a hard worker) had completed telling the class about some plant that Harry had no idea how to even pronounce the name, she told them to divide into groups to dissect the plants.

Harry was left out, but Professor Sprout quickly placed him with Hermione, Weasley and Longbottom. Harry was unanimously voted to be the first to dissect the strange, orange leafy plant.

"This is ridiculous," Harry muttered, staring at the plant he had just been told to 'deflower'.

"Come on, Lestrange," mocked Weasley. "It's _easy_."

_Then why don't you do it, Weasel?_ Harry thought darkly, starting to pluck at one of the plant's bright orange and fuzzy leaves.

"No, don't do that!" exclaimed Longbottom and Hermione.

However, it was already too late. The plant let off a large siren like sound, startling Harry so badly that he jumped backwards, landing hard on the stool and almost tumbling right over.

"Lestrange!" shouted Professor Sprout, running over to the flailing plant and the four Gryffindors. "What did you do?"

"What you told us to do!" Harry retorted, a little shakily.

"You don't pull the orange leaves!" she said shrilly, pulling out a bottle of a queer ivory liquid from her robes pocket. She dumped the liquid into the plant's pot and it immediately stopped whirring.

"How the hell was I supposed to know that?" demanded Harry. "I've never taken this stupid class before in my life!"

Professor Sprout looked deeply offended that he had called Herbology stupid. "Five points from Gryffindor, Lestrange," she said, disapprovingly.

She walked away, leaving Harry standing there, still in shock from the yelling plant and also a little confused about what the hell house points were.

Hermione, Weasley and Longbottom took control of the rest of the dissection, talking about the Welcome Feast that had been rescheduled for next Friday evening.

Harry sat, furious and also a little embarrassed, on the stool and watched them glumly.

Finally, the bell rang from the castle and the class hurried to put away all of their supplies. Harry, who had no idea where the Charms classroom was, had to wait for some Gryffindors to leave so he could follow them. He was too angry at Hermione to wait for her, so he followed a sandy haired boy, who Harry recognized as a Gryffindor from his uniform, departed with a dark skinned boy and so Harry tagged along behind them.

They were too far ahead to let Harry overhear their conversation, so he instead thought about how stupid Hogwarts was and how much he missed home.

His heart ached at the thought of his mother. He really missed her, even with all of her craziness. Harry sometimes felt as if he was the only one who truly understood her ... and she the same with him. He wanted to go home.

But, it was no time to be sentimental, and Harry was a Death Eater on a mission, for Merlin's sake.

The two boys Harry was following headed into a classroom on the third floor. Harry's heart leapt at the sight of a familiar blond head and he immediately headed over to Draco's desk and plopped himself down beside him.

"Hey, Draco," he greeted, relieved.

His cousin nodded back in greeting and said, "I have decided that Hogwarts is a waste of time."

Harry nodded gravely. "I agree."

Draco shook his head, clearly disgusted. "Do you have any idea what class I just had to sit through?" he demanded.

Harry shook his head, no.

"History of Magic. _History. Of. Magic._ It was the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard – all about goblin wars and what not."

Harry gaped at his cousin and said, "History of Magic? No wonder all the Light people are so bad at magic – that's what they learn."

Draco nodded. "Yeah. I slept through it after I realized what a gong show it was. The Professor is a ghost, for Merlin's sake!"

"A ghost?" repeated Harry, surprised. "Why the hell is a ghost still teaching?"

"Well, I asked this girl –"

"The girl you left the Great Hall with this morning?" Harry asked, smirking.

Draco grinned and nodded. "Daphne Greengrass. _Very_ nice girl." Harry's smirk broadened and Draco laughed. "_Anyways_, so I asked her what the hell was up with Binns – that's the teacher's name – and she said that he simply got up one day without his body and she doesn't think he ever noticed that he was dead."

Harry laughed and then said, "Well, I had this ridiculous class called Herbology –"

"What's that, a cooking class?" asked Draco, waving his wand absently at a girl in the first row, who was just about to sit down. He made her chair move backwards and she fell flat on her butt, slightly shaking the floor as she hit it.

"No," said Harry, amused at what Draco had just done. "It's all about plants and their properties and stuff. It was stupid."

Draco opened his mouth to respond, but the redheaded Professor Potter suddenly entered and so he didn't say anything. People quickly finished their conversations and headed to their seats. The girl that had fallen to the floor jumped to her feet with a bright red face, retrieved her chair and sat down hurriedly.

"Good morning, everyone," Professor Potter said. "I understand that yesterday was a very upsetting day for you all –"

You have no idea, Harry thought darkly.

"– but I know that Victoria, Melanie, Benjamin, Harold, and Kevin would not want us to wallow in their deaths. That being said, I hope you all had a lovely summer vacation. Anybody have any interesting stories to tell?"

Harry snorted and thought what the class would think about his summer ... training with Death Eaters and all.

One girl mentioned that she had gone to Spain for the summer and a few boys made up a story about fighting dragons, which the rest of the class (excluding Draco and Harry) found very amusing.

Professor Potter smiled at the boys and said, "I'm sure the dragon really appreciated being thrown into a river, Goldstein."

"Oh, he did, Professor," said one of the boys, solemnly. "Says it cleaned his scales right off."

Professor Potter shook her head, smiling, and said, "Now, to today's lesson. We will begin practice on the Aguamenti Charm –"

"They're just learning that now?" Harry hissed, surprised. Draco looked equally as surprised.

"– but before that I want to explain to you about an O.W.L. level requirement that this course has. For the rest of the term until Christmas, you will be working with a partner on a number of projects, the first of which we will begin right now. Take out your notebooks, please."

Professor Potter turned to the board and waved her wand at it, making instructions appear. Harry and Draco exchanged a look – they had no books or quills or anything.

"Uh, Professor?" said Draco politely, surprising Harry at his respectful tone.

"Yes, Malfoy?" said Professor Potter, turning from the board.

"Henry and I don't have any supplies – well because –"

Professor Potter nodded, interrupting Draco. "Yes, I understand. Can anyone lend Malfoy and Lestrange some parchment and a quill?"

No one looked very eager, but at Professor Potter's dark glare at her unkind students, a few rustled in their bags and handed over the supplies.

"We'll have to figure out a way to contact my mother or Aunt Narcissa and tell them to get us school supplies," Harry muttered to his cousin, as he peered at the bent out of shape quill with a frown.

Draco nodded. "Yeah. And get them to send us our brooms as well – did you know they have Quidditch teams here?"

"They do?" said Harry, surprised. He loved Quidditch – but as if he'd be doing any of that here, playing with Hogwarts students when in reality he was on their opposing team in reality, the Death Eaters.

Professor Potter cleared her throat loudly and the boys rolled their eyes in unison, but stopped talking and started to write the notes.

_Year Five – First Charms Project – O.W.L Level_

_-You and your partner(s) will chose a spell that we have not covered in class yet and write a report on the properties and effects that this spell has._

_-You will then practice said spell until you have mastered it and then you will present it to the class and teach your classmates the spell._

_-This assignment is due on the 3rd of October, no exceptions _

Harry finished writing and said, in a low voice, "Really? This is what you do in O.W.L. level Charms? We did these kinds of things when we were twelve."

Draco nodded. "Yeah, this will be a piece of cake. What spell should we do?"

Professor Potter cleared her throat and asked, "Is everyone finished copying the notes? Yes? Perfect, now I'll put you into your partners for this –"

"You choose the partners?" said Harry out loud, horrified about the prospect of getting stuck with a Hogwarts student.

"Yes, Mr Lestrange, I do," said Professor Potter, scowling at him. A piece of parchment had appeared in her hand and she said, "Now, when I've finished calling out everyone's name, you may move to sit beside them. Finnigan and Longbottom –" The sandy haired boy that Harry had followed there jumped up and high fived Longbottom. "Miss Bones and Miss Greengrass –" the girl Harry had seen leaving with Draco that morning curled her lip at a redheaded girl from Hufflepuff – "Miss Parkinson and Thomas –" A girl with a face like a pug made a loud complaining noise and– "Macmillan, you'll work with Corner –" a Hufflepuff and a Ravenclaw boy nodded at each other – "Finch-Fletchley and Miss Patil – Parvati, that is –" a Hufflepuff boy smiled brightly at a very pretty Gryffindor – "The other Miss Patil with Zabini –" a girl who looked almost identical to the Gryffindor Patil sighed and narrowed her eyes at a tall, dark skinned boy wearing Slytherin robes – "Goldstein and Corner – " Two Ravenclaw boys high fived – "Weasley and Malfoy –"

"WHAT?" said both Weasley and Draco, loudly.

Professor Potter looked up from her list and cocked an eyebrow. "Is there a problem?"

"Yes," said Draco promptly. "I don't want to work with Weasley."

"Well, sometimes life isn't fair, Malfoy," Professor Potter snapped. "Malfoy and Weasley, and the last partners are Miss Granger and Lestrange."

Oh kill me now, Harry thought darkly. He glanced over to Hermione; she looked just displeased as Harry felt.

"It is my recommendation to all of you that you begin research on this project as soon as you can for October 3rd may feel as if it as a long time away, but it really isn't. Your essays are due the 3rd and we will present the spells for the following week or so."

After the scrawl of the quills began again, Harry looked to the board and saw that Professor Potter had summoned a set of instructions on how to conjure the Aguamenti spell.

"Before I split you up to practice, would anyone like to try this spell now?"

Hermione practically jumped out of her seat. "I will, Professor!"

"Of course she will," Draco muttered to Harry, who smirked.

"All right, Miss Granger, come on up. Now, the incantation is Aguamenti – can everyone please repeat that?"

"Aguamenti," said the class, in unison. Harry and Draco just rolled their eyes.

Professor Potter cleared her throat and pointed her wand at one of the empty desks in the room. "You all might want to move away from there," she added, to the three students sitting near it. They stood up and headed to the back of the classroom to watch.

"_Incendio_!" said Professor Potter, and a jet of fire shot out of her wand and hit the table, igniting it immediately. Harry was strongly reminded of the time that Bellatrix had set the chair beside him on fire at dinner all those years ago.

"Go, Hermione!" said Professor Potter, urging the girl forward.

She looked focused and said, clearly, "_Aguamenti_!" A small spurt of water escaped her wand, but wasn't strong enough to completely put it out. "_Aguamenti_!" she repeated. This water jet was pretty good but still the fire blazed.

Professor Potter said, "_Aguamenti_!" and the water from her wand was good enough to help Hermione's to put it out.

"Very good, Miss Granger," Professor Potter said. "Five points to Gryffindor."

Hermione beamed with pleasure and returned to her seat.

"Anyone else?"

Before Harry could stop himself, he was out of his seat – he wanted to show Hermione (and the rest of the students here) what a proper education looked like.

"Ah, Mr Lestrange?" Harry nodded and so Professor Potter said, once more, "_Incendio_."

The desk, which was now badly charred, burst into flames and again. Without missing a beat, Harry shouted, _"Aguamenti_!"

The jet of water from Harry's wand was so strong that it extinguished the fire easily, but also made the desk shoot back several feet, making several people jump in alarm as the smoking desk came flying towards them.

Harry smirked and looked at the class's awestruck (and for some, alarmed) faces. "That was easy," he said simply, twirling his wand in his fingers.

* * *

A/N: Alas, the end of another chapter! Next chapter will have Harry's interactions with Snape, McGonagall and Moody!!! More murder planning coming up too!

Oh and I have one little request for everyone to do – I'm sure you've all heard of the disaster in Haiti. If you're able to donate anything, even if it's just a dollar, I know they'd all really appreciate it and you could be the difference between someone dying or not.

Please review!


	11. Teacher Trouble

A/N: thanks so much for all the reviews everyone!!!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to the wonderful JK Rowling.

**Chapter Eleven – Teacher Trouble **

"An attack on the Hogwarts Express, Dumbledore!" Fudge roared, slamming his hand down on Dumbledore's desk, making Fawkes the phoenix shriek in alarm. "Do you know what kind of fear this has insinuated in the public?"

"Probably many angry letters and Howlers to your office," Dumbledore said calmly, resting his head on his interlocked fingers and watching Fudge as he paced.

Fudge apparently didn't hear Dumbledore because he was still going on and on. "The Daily Prophet's article yesterday about it nearly insulated the panic everyone is already feeling! Hogwarts is supposed to be the safest place around – the place where our children will be safe. Five students and three Aurors _dead _..." Fudge shook his head, at a loss.

Dumbledore bowed his head slightly, but said nothing.

"You know for sure that Rita Skeeter's going to have her own opinion on this! She's going to twist the facts and make everything seven times worse than it already is! I'm surprised parents haven't started pulling their students out, but I'm sure that is still to come soon!" Fudge sat down with a thump, and let out a huge breath. "Have you notified the parents?"

"Of course," Dumbledore said, gravely, "I did so when we were sure of who had been killed." Dumbledore shook his head and his blue eyes held unimaginable sadness. "The Aurors have finished investigating the scene and will release the bodies to their families soon?"

Fudge nodded and waved his hand absently. "Yes, yes, they told me they'd finished this morning and would be writing the parents that they could come collect the students." He paused and then took a breath, looking at Dumbledore carefully from the corner of his eye. "The Ministry is thinking about holding a public funeral for the students and the Aurors killed."

Fudge was probably expecting Dumbledore to be surprised, but the Headmaster just nodded. "I thought you might. I, however, think that is not a good idea."

"What?" Fudge spluttered.

"The Ministry should leave the grieving families in peace, Cornelius," Dumbledore said firmly. "They did not expect their sons and daughters to perish in this attack and I have no doubt that they would like to mourn privately. Hold a press conference about it," he said reasonably. "Ask for five minutes of silence, one minute for each student. But do not have their bodies out on display ... it will only further the frenzy of alarm you spoke of earlier."

Fudge nodded, reluctantly. "I suppose you're right ... I'll have to write to Percy Weasley as soon as I leave to tell him not to contact the families ... Now, what's this I've heard about you letting in Lestrange's kid and Malfoy's kid?"

"I did," Dumbledore said calmly. "They successfully convinced me that –"

"I don't care whatever the hell these two liars told you!" Fudge shouted, slamming his hand down again on Dumbledore's desk. "What are those dead kids' parents going to say when you've allowed their murderers to go Hogwarts?"

"Cornelius," Dumbledore said, disapprovingly, "Do you honestly think that I would allow the murderers of my five students to attend my school? Of course not! They proved to me that they have turned away from the life of Death Eaters and they do not wish to associate with Voldemort any longer."

"How?" Fudge retorted.

"Draco Malfoy showed me a memory," Dumbledore said simply.

"A memory?" Fudge said, scornfully. "A memory is what convinced you that the son of Lucius Malfoy is not evil?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"It is not impossible to change a memory, Dumbledore," Fudge said coldly.

"Faking a memory takes a considerable about of skill; something that even a child raised Voldemort's presence wouldn't be able to do," Dumbledore said. "Even I have trouble faking such a thing."

Fudge looked reluctant to accept that, but a confession that the great Dumbledore couldn't do something seemed to convince him. "What of Lestrange then?" he said quickly. "What proof does he have that he is no longer evil?"

"He opened his mind just slightly for me to be able to see that he was in sincere that he didn't want to return to Voldemort. It was a sincere and true feeling, Cornelius," Dumbledore added, at Fudge's expression.

Fudge rolled his eyes and said, "Well, all this is fine and wonderful, Dumbledore, but don't you think that you might've been a bit preoccupied with Death Eaters attacking the school to fully clear these two?"

Dumbledore bowed his head in acknowledgment. "Yes, I did consider this, Cornelius. That is why I have asked all of my teachers' to keep a close eye on them. They will report to me if the boys do anything out of the ordinary."

Fudge still looked annoyed. "Fine, Dumbledore, fine. If you want to have two Death Eater students attend Hogwarts, fine. But, you are to keep their identity and the fact that they are Death Eater children a secret! If anyone were to find out –"

"My teachers have been sworn to secrecy, Cornelius," Dumbledore said firmly. "And I highly doubt that they themselves will go gallivanting about, proclaiming who their parents are. They have turned from that life."

Fudge couldn't help but snort and he rolled his eyes, while sighing loudly. He took his green bowler hat from the desk where he'd placed when he entered and plopped it on his head. "I'll be in touch, Dumbledore."

Dumbledore nodded and Fudge headed over to Dumbledore's fireplace, grabbing some Floo from a pot on the mantel and shouting, "Ministry of Magic!"

In a rush of green flames, Fudge disappeared and Dumbledore was alone once again.

Was Fudge right? Dumbledore thought, standing up and going to stroke Fawkes. Were Henry and Draco destined to return to what they were brought up as?

Only time would tell.

* * *

After Charms class was over, Harry and Draco headed to the Great Hall for lunch. Harry once more sat with the Slytherins and both decided that it was time to talk to the Dark Lord.

Harry had no class directly after lunch, but Draco did. Harry walked his cousin to class, and then departed for the grounds. He found the secluded area of the grounds that they'd sat yesterday and cast a quick spell to hide them.

He then pulled out the mirror he'd retrieved from Gryffindor Tower and almost as soon as Harry looked into the mirror, the face of the Dark Lord appeared on the other side.

"My lord," Harry greeted.

"Henry ," Voldemort said. "What news do you have?"

"Not much, my lord," Harry admitted, "But I do have several classes with Longbottom and so it shouldn't be too hard to gain his trust. Besides, there is some class named Herbology which Longbottom is really good at it, so I'll just pretend to suck at it so he can help me out."

Voldemort narrowed his eyes, looking annoyed. "That is all?" he said shortly.

Harry couldn't help but gulp. "Yes ... but, actually, my lord – could, could I speak to my mother?" At Voldemort's immediate frown, Harry added, "It's just that we need school supplies and stuff –"

Voldemort let out a cold, short laugh. "School supplies? You think that we are able to send you _school supplies_?"

"Uh –" Harry began, bewildered at Voldemort's reaction.

Voldemort smiled coldly. "Henry, you seem to have lost your mind. Dumbledore believes that you and Draco have left the Death Eaters – but suddenly you receive a package with everything you've ever needed? I don't think so; that will give you away in a heartbeat. You will have to do without. You should've planned for this."

Planned for this? Who on earth would plan to be captured and sent to school? Certainly not Harry.

From within the mirror, Harry heard his mother's voice and his heart leapt. "My lord, may I speak to Henry? Please?"

Voldemort made an annoyed sound, but his face disappeared from the frame to be replaced by Bellatrix's.

She looked like she hadn't slept in days; her eyes had huge, purple bags under them and her hair looked even wilder than usual.

"Oh, Henry, darling," she said immediately, coming up close to the mirror. "How are you?" Before Harry could even open his mouth to reply, her face changed from relief at seeing him to utter darkness. "WHEN YOU GET HOME, I'M GOING TO CRUCIO YOU UNTIL YOUR EYES BLEED! HOW DARE YOU GET CAPTURED! HOW DARE YOU? HOW CAN YOU CALL YOURSELF A LESTRANGE WHEN YOU FAILED YOUR FIRST MISSION? I'VE NEVER BEEN SO DISAPPOINTED IN YOU IN MY LIFE!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Love you too, Mum."

"DON'T GIVE ME THAT ATTITUDE, YOUNG MAN!" Bellatrix screeched, shaking the mirror as if she wanted to shake Harry.

"Mum –" Harry said, a little exasperatedly, "Really."

Bellatrix was breathing like a racehorse after a big race and she continued to do so for a few seconds. Finally, she calmed down enough to say, through tight lips, "When is the first Hogsmeade weekend?"

Harry first had no idea what she was talking about, but then remembered that Hogwarts students were allowed to go to the neighbouring town of Hogsmeade every once and a while. "Um, I don't know," Harry said, "Probably sometime within the next month or two. Why?"

"Because I'll come to see you on the weekend – in disguise of course," she added hurriedly, at the look on Harry's face.

"Is that really a good idea?" Harry asked, frowning.

Bellatrix waved her hand dismissively. "It'll be fine, Henry. Don't worry so much."

Harry still didn't like that idea, but he nodded reluctantly. "If you're able to come, could you bring a few things of mine from home?"

Bellatrix nodded and said, "Like what?"

"My broom," Harry said, shrugging. "Anything else that you think could help us with getting close to Longbottom."

Bellatrix nodded and said, "Of course, Henry. But it will have to be something that you can easily buy in Hogsmeade, so you don't look suspicious –"

A loud bell sound ran out along the grounds and so Harry said unhappily, "Sorry, Mother, the bell. Have to go to class."

Bellatrix's eyes darkened again. "I can't believe you're at Hogwarts." Her eyes flickered over to the side where Voldemort obviously was still standing. She looked back to Henry and then nodded, her eyes solemn. "I'll see you soon, Henry." She lowered her voice and whispered, "Good luck."

* * *

Harry had no idea where Transfiguration was, but spotted a few Gryffindors he recognized by sight heading up the marble staircase and quickly followed them.

Once they arrived at the classroom, Harry spotted an empty desk near the back of the room and quickly sat there.

After everyone else had arrived in the classroom, Professor McGonagall strode in. "Welcome to Transfiguration everyone. As you are all aware, this is your final year of mandatory study in this course as we have the O.W.L. exams in June. This year will be full of hard magic and I expect all of you to try your very hardest to keep up." She frowned sternly at Longbottom in particular. "Today, we will take notes." She waved her wand and about a full parchment worth of notes appeared on the board.

Of course, Harry thought darkly, pulling out the quill he'd kept from Charms that morning and snatching a piece of parchment when a girl beside him wasn't looking.

He looked up to the board to begin to write, but then dropped his quill in surprise. They were learning about Conjuring Spells.

Harry had never been so appalled in his life. They were just learning this now? _What_? Harry could do this in his sleep – in fact, he had once!

"Professor, I have a question," Harry said, raising his hand.

Almost all of the students turned to look Harry and Professor McGonagall turned as well. "Yes, Lestrange?"

"Why are we just learning this now?" he asked innocently.

Professor McGonagall looked confused. "I'm sorry?"

"I said; why are we learning this now? I mean, I've known how to conjure something since I was twelve ... and you're just teaching them now?"

Professor McGonagall narrowed her eyes. "Your education prior to attending Hogwarts may have had you learn this advanced magic at a younger age, but here at Hogwarts we teach our students in a way that is more agreeable to the guidelines of the Ministry of Magic and what the school personally believes is the proper curriculum."

"Well, that's utterly ridiculous," Harry said. "How do you even expect to win if your students can't even do a simple Conjuring spell?"

"Win what, Lestrange?" snapped Professor McGonagall, annoyed.

Harry stared at her, aghast. "The war! What else?"

Professor McGonagall's nostrils widened with annoyance. "Mr Lestrange, not everything in the world is organized into institutions dedicated to fighting He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Now, everyone –"

"But that's the whole point of this school, isn't it?" Harry interrupted, bewildered.

Professor McGonagall turned back to Harry, looking severely pissed off. "No, Lestrange, it isn't. Hogwarts is to train witches and wizards for the outside world, and aide them in deciding what professions they'd like to choose when they graduate!"

"But they won't be able to do that if the Dark Lord takes over!" Harry said loudly, ignoring the whispers that started when he said 'the Dark Lord' instead of 'You-Know-Who'. He wasn't trying to give Hogwarts advice on what to do, in fact, he was rather delighted that they had no idea how to duel for it would make an easier victory for his side, but ... _still_. It was just ridiculous.

Professor McGonagall drew herself up to her full height. "From what you are saying, it appears to me that your education was not superior, but severely lacking in general facts of the wizarding world. Detention, Lestrange. My office, Friday evening."

Harry's mouth fell open. "Detention? I didn't do _anything_ to deserve detention!"

"Was talking back not considered rude when you were homeschooled?" Professor McGonagall snapped. "Now be quiet, or that will be another detention for you."

She and Harry stared daggers at each for several seconds before Harry angrily leaned back in his desk and looked pointedly away from her.

He couldn't help but notice that Hermione had a triumphant smirk on her face – she was obviously pleased that Harry had gotten into trouble.

* * *

Bellatrix couldn't wait for the Hogsmeade weekend that Henry and herself had agreed to meet. Just thinking of him in Hogwarts, sitting in stupid classes made her want to cry.

She had loved Hogwarts while she was there, but she had never envisioned her son attending that school. It just wasn't his environment and besides – he was much too clever and intelligent for the mediocre education of Hogwarts.

Presently, about late afternoon, she was in Knockturn Alley – heavily disguised by use of the Polyjuice Potion (from the Lestrange family storage of them). She was some old Muggle woman and she felt dirty just pretending to be a Muggle.

Bellatrix had been looking through Henry's things, trying to figure out what he could possibly need for his mission and come to the conclusion that she needed to go about looking for some new items.

She headed into Borgin and Burkes, one of her favourite stores. Mr Borgin looked up as the bell above the door tinkled as she entered.

His nose wrinkled in disgust at the sight of the old, poor looking woman. "Yes?" he snapped.

"Just browsing," Bellatrix said, innocently. She knew the hour Polyjuice potion she'd drunk was just about over and when the glamour faded from her ... let's just say poor Mr Borgin.

Bellatrix drifted through the store, absently looking around. There was a withered hand with a hole in the center, apparently for a candle. The old sign below the display read 'Hand of Glory'. Bellatrix tapped the sign absently, when she started to feel very peculiar.

Slowly, her hair began to grow out from the old woman's white curls into thick, black curls that reached just past her elbows. She grew taller, her fingers elongated, and her eyes turned from a watery blue to a sparkling black.

The old woman's clothing remained, but as Bellatrix had dressed in a black lacy dress with a lacy veil, it still suited her.

"Oh, looks like my hour is up ..." Bellatrix said, looking at her hand as if she'd never seen it before. Her eyes flickered to Mr Borgin and she gave him an evil smile.

Mr Borgin looked horrified. "Madam Lestrange – my _profuse _apologies ... I didn't recognize you –"

"No, seeing as that is the wanted effect of the Polyjuice Potion, Borgin," Bellatrix said coldly. She walked, her heels clicking loudly on the wooden floor, over to a glass eye, about the size of a golf ball, hidden behind a display case. It was clear, with just a vivid black iris, surrounding just a slightly dark pupil. The eye followed Bellatrix's movement as she neared it.

"What is this?" she asked brusquely.

"Ah," said Mr Borgin, hurrying over, "Exquisite taste, Madam Lestrange –" Bellatrix shot him a glare that clearly meant 'get on with it.' "Ah, yes ... this is an 'Oculus' – very useful device – you simply place this anywhere you wish and it will record what it sees. It's very useful – you simply tap it with your wand and say, 'initium' when you want it to start and when you want it to stop, you say 'perago'."

"Hmm," Bellatrix said, peering closely at it. "How much is it?"

"15 Galleons."

"Now, that seems a little _expensive_," Bellatrix said, straightening and setting her coldest stare onto Mr Borgin, tapping her wand on the desk and sending out green sparks as she did so.

Mr Borgin paled. "Of course... what was I thinking? We could most _certainly_ make an adjustment for you, Madam – 11 Galleons is reasonable?"

"I was thinking more around the lines of .... _nine_."

Mr Borgin almost squeaked. "Of – of course. Anything for you, Madam Lestrange."

Bellatrix cleared her throat loudly and tapped her wand again. Mr Borgin jumped and quickly whipped out a ring of keys from his pocket. He searched through the many rusty keys before he located one, a large iron one, and placed it into the lock on the case. He opened it and delicately took out the eye; it's iris turning around quickly to locate Mr Borgin.

He carried it over to the till and placed it in a velvet lined case, wrapping a thin cord ribbon around it to secure it in place.

Bellatrix placed eight Galleons down on the counter and looked at Mr Borgin, as if daring him to ask for the outstanding one. He cleared his throat, but said nothing and held out the package for Bellatrix to take.

"Thank you," she said coldly, taking the package. She placed it in one of the pockets of her cloak and then drew, from within her cloak, a bottle full of Polyjuice Potion (the old woman's hair had made it turn a soft, aquamarine.) Bellatrix downed it quickly and changed back into the old woman.

"Borgin," she said, nodding, before sweeping from the shop, the overhead bell tinkling as she let it slam shut behind her.

This would make a wonderful gift for Henry, Bellatrix thought, as she strolled down the street.

* * *

The next morning, Harry sat at the Gryffindor table, after agreeing with Draco that he should do that from now on as to try to get closer to Longbottom. Harry was seated a few seats down from him, and just a few in the other direction from Granger.

Harry and Draco hadn't worked out all the kinks in their plan to poison Moody yet, so far Harry hadn't spoken much to the girl. Hermione seemed to be perfectly all right with that – it was obvious she was wary of what she'd been forced to agree to.

Suddenly, hundreds of owls flew into the Great Hall. They'd startled Harry yesterday at breakfast, but this morning he didn't jump. However, when one flew towards him, he did jump as it landed perfectly in front of him, carrying a trunk about the size of a treasure chest and flew right off again.

For one wild moment, Harry thought that Bellatrix had sent him something. A little horrified, he peered into it and saw a lot of school supplies, as well as a little note.

He unfolded it and read:

_Mr Lestrange, _

_Here are some loaner supplies for you until you are able to get some of your own from Hogsmeade. I've also enclosed several Galleons, Sickles and Knuts from the school's trust fund to help you get anything you want there. It'll be enough for your school supplies and even a few treats._

_Albus Dumbledore_

Harry was disgusted – he didn't need _charity _from Dumbledore of all people! He shut the chest with a loud snap.

The bell sounded and everyone started to move. Harry cursed himself for not going back to his dorm to stash the chest – what was he going to do with this huge thing? Bring it to all of his morning classes?

Well, he thought darkly, getting to his feet and pulling out his wand. Might as well make it smaller to carry around. "_Reducio_," he said and immediately the trunk shrunk to a small size, small enough for him to put into the pocket of his robes. He pocketed it and then hurried out of the Hall, after Hermione. He hadn't checked his schedule so he had no idea what class was next.

He was a few steps behind Hermione, who herself was walking a few feet behind two of the other Gryffindor girls in his year – a girl he thought was named Lavender Brown and her pretty friend Parvati Patil.

Curious about what could possibly be taught in a dungeon, Harry asked, aloud, "What class is this?"

"Potions," Hermione said snappishly. "Didn't you even look at the schedule?" she asked, exasperated.

"Of course not," said Harry brusquely. "Who teaches Potions?" he asked, a little curious. He was exceptional at Potions and hoped for a decent teacher.

"Professor Snape," Hermione said, over her shoulder, as she entered the dungeon classroom, having sidestepped Harry.

"Snape?" Harry said, stopping dead in his tracks. Snape? As in Severus Snape, the betrayer? An evil grin slowly lifted Harry's features and he strutted into the Potions classroom, suddenly looking forward to class.

Snape wasn't in the room yet, but he did see Draco sitting with the pretty Slytherin girl that he seemed to like. There was no empty seat next to them.

A little dejected, Harry sat down next to Hermione, who didn't look at all pleased.

Harry pulled the little chest out of his pocket and peered into it. However much he didn't want to use anything that Dumbledore had given him, he didn't want to spend this entire class asking for supplies again. The begging Henry was gone and was not coming back.

Within the chest, he spotted a bundle of parchment, a quill, an inkwell and a textbook that had a bubbling cauldron on the front, so he assumed it was for this class. He pulled these objects out and muttered a quick Enlarging Spell. They grew to a regular size and Harry was extremely offended that the book looked very old and disgusting.

Finally, the door to the classroom reopened and Severus Snape strode in, wearing flowing black robes.

"Welcome to Potions," he said, his voice cold and slippery. It reminded Harry of the Dark Lord's snake, Nagini, who he had often seen around Riddle Manor.

Snape surveyed the classroom, looking at the students in front of him. For a second, he locked eyes with Draco and then his eyes immediately became more alert as he scanned the room more quickly. He locked eyes with Harry when he finally located him. Harry stared stonily back at him.

Snape's unpleasant face got even more unpleasant. His scowl deepened and his yellow pallor somewhat paled as he looked from Harry to Draco, sitting a few seats away.

Looking away sharply, Snape summoned a list and began to read off the names. He passed over all the names without so much of an infliction in his monotone, even Harry's and Draco's. He did sigh a little in resignation at Longbottom's name, but other that, everyone was equally boring to him.

"This year you will have your O.W.L examinations and because of this, you will be brewing more complex, mind bending and deadly potions. Open your books to page 356," he ordered. "The instructions to making the Draught of Peace are there – you will need your dragon hide gloves for this potion as the hellebore is poisonous. You have one hour. Begin."

Immediately, there was a scuffle of people hurrying to start the potion. Hermione was the first to gather all of the ingredients and started to crush the moonstone into a fine powder right away.

Harry was one of the last to gather everything from the storage cupboard and he returned to his table slowly. This potion was tricky, Harry would give Snape that, but he'd made it several years ago so it wasn't that hard for him.

Every ingredient had to be added in precise order in the right amount. Just a little more powdered moonstone than the instructions called for would spell disaster – Draco had learned that the hard way.

Harry was one of the swiftest people on the potion. He had added all of the ingredients, except the hellebore, and was just stirring it twice counter-clockwise before lowering the flames and adding the syrup of hellebore.

After he had done that, he left the potion to simmer for seven minutes. While he waited, he watched Snape as he made his rounds of the classroom.

"What is this, Longbottom?" Snape asked coldly, looking at Neville's potion. It had a hard, cement like composition – the opposite of what it was supposed to have.

"The Draught of Peace?" Longbottom said nervously, holding the vial with the syrup of hellebore tightly.

Snape's lip curled. "Your inability to read shocks me, Longbottom. Do the instructions not specifically say to add the hellebore last, after the flames have been lowered?"

Harry coughed to cover his laugh and hurriedly looked down at his textbook. Hermione just finished adding her hellebore and looked over at him, looking annoyed that he'd finished before she had.

Harry's Potion began to emit a pretty silver vapour after a few minutes, the first one in the room.

"I'm finished," Harry called out lazily to Snape. Hermione's head snapped up – she looked shocked and furious that Harry had finished before her.

Snape's lips thinned even more and he turned to look at Harry. He walked over and peered into Harry's cauldron, frowning.

"Passable," he said darkly, scrawling something on his mark sheet.

"Passable?" Harry repeated, appalled. "This is _amazing_! Better than everyone's in here!"

Snape smirked. "I believe I am the teacher, Lestrange. As I said, _passable_." He turned and walked over to Draco, who had just finished as well.

"Don't take it personally," Longbottom said to Harry. "He hates all the Gryffindors."

That was no comfort to Harry, who angrily leaned back in his chair and glared at Snape for the remainder of the class. Once more, he noticed that Hermione looked oddly delighted that he hadn't gotten praise from Snape.

* * *

On Harry's schedule the next class listed was Defence Against the Dark Arts. Since he was in such a dark mood from Potions, all he wanted to do was go up to his dorm and grab some sleep.

That's another thing about Hogwarts – he hadn't been sleeping well at all since he got here. Having to share a bedroom with four other people, of whom Longbottom snored and Finnigan talked in his sleep, was torture to Harry, who had had his own room since he was eleven, ever since he and Draco had thrown an argument about having to still share a room when they visited each other. But, even before that, Harry still had his own room and now having to spend every single night with four other people kept him awake.

His bed was uncomfortable, the room was too warm, and he just all around hated the dorm room. His extreme dislike of Hogwarts didn't help.

Harry sighed, wishing that he could just go up and get some sleep, but since it was Defence Against the Dark Arts, Harry wanted to know what the Hogwarts students learned to defend themselves against Voldemort, so he, reluctantly, went to class.

To get to the Defence Against the Dark Arts class, for he still had no idea where he was in the castle, he followed Neville and Ron, (Hermione had departed almost immediately after Potions class and Harry hadn't been able to find her). Longbottom and Weasley were talking excitedly about the new teacher and what he was going to be like. They mentioned a name, but Harry didn't catch it because he was walking several steps behind them in a noisy hallway.

Harry wondered briefly why there was a new teacher, but then decided it didn't matter. They were all new teachers to him.

The classroom was large and probably the nicest one Harry had been in yet. There were tall, bright windows and several feet between each desk, making the room looking very comfortable.

Harry spotted an empty desk near the front, so reluctantly, he went to sit in it. After a few minutes, the door at the top of a spiral staircase opened. Out stepped, or rather hobbled out, Mad Eye Moody.

Harry was only mildly surprised – he knew that Moody was teaching here from seeing him at the staff table, but it was still a shock to see this great Auror in Hogwarts of all places. Harry had thought he'd meet Moody out on some battlefield, not in a classroom.

The first thing that Moody did was to pull out the class list and begin to read out a list of names. His magical, blue eye swivelled around as he read out the names, hesitating only slightly on Harry's.

"All right, today we're going to be talking about curses."

Excellent.

"Put your books away; you won't need them today," Moody added gruffly,

There was an excited shuffling of people shutting their books, although Hermione looked a little disappointed, and

Moody leaned back against the table at the front of the classroom. "They come in all shapes and forms: legal, illegal, powerful and Dark." He paused and his magical eye focused on Harry for just a fraction of a second before surveying the classroom once more. "Now, we can't talk about Dark Curses without talking about the Unforgivables. I'm sure you've all heard of them, some of you have probably seen them and I'm sure at least one of you has used one once."

Harry tried not to squirm at the several glances he received.

"Don't just be looking at Lestrange," Moody grumbled. "He's not the only guilty one here. Now, what are they called?"

As expected, almost every hand shot up into the air. Harry kept his down, as always.

"Yeah ... uh, Brown?" Moody asked, looking down at the register and then back up at the girl.

"Um, there's one ... the Imperious Curse?"

"Yeah, there's that one. Particularly nasty one, that curse. That's cast on you and they'll have total control of you. Favourite of the Death Eaters. Don't need to demonstrate these – you all know what they look like after that Hogwarts Express fiasco." Moody shook his head. "Any others? Yeah, Granger?"

"The Cruciatus Curse?" Hermione said, looking nervous.

Moody nodded. "Another favourite – particularly of some of the higher up Death Eaters." His eyes flickered to Harry again and then away. "You got another one, Longbottom?"

Longbottom nodded grimly. "The Killing Curse," he said simply.

Moody nodded once more. "That's the one._ Avada Kedavra_ ... the worst of the Unforgivables. There's no counter curse, no way to block it. Not one person is known to have survived it."

There was an eerie silence over the whole classroom – Harry was sure that everyone here knew someone that had been controlled, tortured or killed by these three curses, not even counting the Hogwarts Express attacks.

"These curses take a good deal of power to do and I doubt that any of you could cast these successfully and get the desired result." Harry tried very hard not to snort.

Suddenly, Moody roared, "CONSTANT VIGILIANCE!" Everyone jumped at least a foot in the air and several people shrieked; Harry's heart had nearly leapt to the ceiling and his hand had automatically gone for his wand.

"Always be prepared, you've got to know what you're up against," Moody said, pacing the room, his wooden leg making a loud clunking sound every second step. "Always be vigilant ... never trust anyone ... you'll all be approached, if you haven't been already, to join Voldemort –" Almost everyone twitched violently – "You don't accept, you'll meet one of these curses head on. Seems, harsh, I know, but _you've got to know._ The only way of defence is knowledge. _Knowledge. _Now, quickly, write these notes up, we've got other curses to discuss."

The class hurriedly pulled out parchment and quills and copied down the notes from the black board. It took a good ten minutes, but when everyone was done, Moody erased them.

"I'll demonstrate the curses for you next class – on spiders, course," he added, at the alarmed looks. "Moving on, besides the Unforgivables, what other curses are there? You all know the basics – the ones you've been taught for years. What are the others? The ones that take a good deal of power to do? The ones that are Dark? Anybody?"

Hermione raised her hand into the air tentatively. "Well, there's the Blasting Curse."

Moody nodded. "Confringo – particularly powerful, you'll be learning that from me later on ... very good Granger, five points to Gryffindor. Others?"

The class listed off several other curses, ones that Harry had learned when he was younger, but to them were still advanced and to learn for the N.E.W.T. examinations.

"You got anything, Lestrange?" Moody barked at Harry. "Anything we haven't mentioned?"

Harry was startled that Moody was talking to him and sensed that Moody was trying to bait him into revealing a Dark spell, but recovered quickly. "Um ... there's the Decursus Curse," he said, uncertainly.

Moody didn't look surprised. "Yes, the Decursus, far more powerful than the Confringo, takes a lot of strength to cast. Good. You got more?"

Of course he did. "Um, the Contremisco?"

This time Moody looked impressed. "Good, Lestrange. Five points to Gryffindor ... yes, the Contremisco Curse, better known as the Earthquake Curse ... not surprising you'd know that one, after all ... anyways, others?"

A few more people volunteered curses and Moody awarded them points as well. "Good, very good ... you lot seem to know a lot of curses ... makes my job easier. We'll cover some of the ones you mentioned this year, like the Confringo, but others, like the Earthquake Curse you'll learn later on, maybe in your seventh year."

Moody waved his wand and a list of about eight spells appeared on the board. "Copy these down and for tomorrow, be able to give me two facts about each one." Almost as soon as the scrawl of quills ended, the bell sounded.

"Don't be late for tomorrow's lesson!" Moody shouted, as everyone stood and started to depart. "Lestrange, stay for a minute, I want to talk to you."

The class all looked askance at Harry but departed. Soon enough, it was just Harry and Moody in the room. As Longbottom, the last to leave, trailed out, Moody turned to Harry, both eyes focusing on him.

"You watch your back, sonny," he growled. "Dumbledore may trust you ... but I don't. You're Bellatrix's kid, you're a good liar. I hear any _whisper_ of trouble involving you or your cousin; you'll have me to deal with."

Harry, who was immediately on the defensive, stared at Moody coldly. "That won't be a problem, Professor."

"Make sure of it," Moody growled.

Harry stared at him coldly for a few moments before he turned on his heel and strode out of the classroom, his mind racing. Oh dear, it was going to be _very _tricky to kill Moody.

* * *

The afternoon classes were so boring that Harry didn't even remember what they were about. He was thinking about all the ways that he and Draco could kill Moody other than poison, but so far, he'd come up with a blank. The Killing Curse would definitely be the easiest – but they still needed to keep their cover and Harry was sure that a dead teacher the year that two Death Eaters showed up at the school would lead the Aurors to assume that it was Harry and Draco who had killed him. Besides, Moody seemed to know everything about the Unforgivables – there was no protection for Avada Kedavra, but he would for sure have a plan if someone ever decided to cast it on him.

Harry was just about to head down to the Slytherin Common Room to see Draco when he was cornered by Hermione, who told him, in no kind words, that they would be working on their Charms project.

Hermione refused to wait until after dinner and so Harry, begrudgingly, followed her up to Gryffindor Tower. It was mostly empty, as classes had just ended and everyone was outside, enjoying the beautiful day or down at dinner already. Everyone who'd come through here earlier had gone up to the dorms, so it was basically just the two of them. Potter and that little blonde girl he was friends with were also there, secluded in a corner playing chess.

"We need to decide what charm we're going to teach the class," Hermione said, settling down into a seat.

"The Blasting Curse," Harry said, simply, also settling into a chair.

"The Blasting Curse?" Hermione said, looking alarmed. "That's dangerous! We can't teach that! Professor Moody should be the one to teach us that – you heard what he said, that one is –"

"Oh come off it, I was just joking," Harry said, laughing. "That one _is_ a little advanced for all you Hogwarts students from what I've seen around here."

Hermione made a face at him and frowned. "Well, we could do the Blasting _Charm_ – it's not as deadly as Confringo and _we_ could teach that."

"Sure, whatever."

Hermione immediately got her Defence book out of her bag and flicked through the pages. "Ah, here it is." She whipped out a quill, ink well and a piece of parchment and started scribbling furiously.

Harry looked at her. "I know how to do the spell, you know," he said.

She shot him a dark look. "Of course _you_ do," she said nastily. "But I need to learn it still so that I – we can teach the class." She looked back down to her textbook. "Now, the incantation is Bombarda –"

"Great," Harry said, dragging the word out. "Well, _you_ figure out how to do the spell and I'm gonna go."

"What? No, you can't leave! We have to do this!"

"Before we can do anything," Harry snarled and getting to his feet. "_You_ need to learn the spell. So, you do that, and I'm gonna leave."

Hermione looked furious, but said nothing as Harry turned on his heel and departed.

It took Harry only a few minutes from there to reach the Slytherin Common Room. Draco was lounging on one of the sleek black leather couches in front of the fireplace and Harry headed over to him, shoving his cousin's legs off the sofa so he could sit down.

"Hello to you, too," Draco grumbled, sitting up and looking at his cousin.

"Hey," Harry greeted. "How was your day?"

"Boring as hell," Draco said. "You?"

"The same," Harry said. "Do you want to go to the library? I have to tell you about Defence class."

Draco smiled. "Sure, let's go."

Both cousins rose and headed out of the Common Room. Both had no idea where the library was, but a passing Slytherin directed them.

The Hogwarts library was old, and filled with ancient books. The librarian, Madam Pince, looked up as Harry and Draco entered. They'd been talking rather loudly about nothing, but she immediately shushed them, looking appalled that they dared to speak in her library.

They found a secluded corner and sat down.

"So, how was Defence?" Draco whispered interestedly.

"Moody's a really good teacher," Harry admitted begrudgingly. It's going to be hard to poison him, he's paranoid about everything. We need to start researching the poisons now because it's going to take forever to poison him and we'll need a lot of time to figure out how to."

Draco nodded and they both stood and started to look around. It took a few good minutes for them to locate the section on poisons. They selected a few books, returned to their table and began to read.

It was quite tedious, if Harry said so himself. Most of the poisons listed here were little ones that would just cause you to get sick, like food poisoning, and then recover within days.

"This is really hard," Draco said, frowning as he leafed through a book entitled '_The Uses of the Poisonous Ragweed_.'

"I know," Harry said, frowning. Both he and Draco weren't used to this kind of research – they'd learned how to study spells and the like, but not plants or poisons. It was looking like Herbology wasn't such a stupid class after all.

"We need someone's help," Draco said, closing the book with a snap.

Harry nodded in agreement.

Someone walked by the table they had set themselves up at. Harry looked up and grinned as he recognized the person. "Speak of the devil," Harry muttered, grinning. "Oi, Granger!" he called.

She turned around and narrowed her eyes at the sight of Harry and Draco. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"That's exactly what we wanted to talk to you about," Harry said, gesturing her over. She hesitated, but then walked over cautiously and sat down.

"Yes?" she asked, looking suspicious.

"We need your help," Draco said.

"Why are you even asking?" she snapped. "Don't I have to help you? Because of the Vow?"

"Yes," said both Draco and Harry immediately. "But, it's polite to ask."

She looked disgusted. "Since when was politeness part of being –" she was abruptly cut off from saying 'Death Eaters' by the Vow. "Well, you know what I mean," she said, waving her hand, annoyed. "Besides, I don't have time to help you," she said, sniffing.

"Why?" Draco demanded.

"I have all my homework, I have to study –"

"You don't need to study," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "Honestly, Hogwarts lessons are so pathetic – I could pass them in my sleep." He paused and then added, "Are you afraid that if you help us, we'll get you into trouble?"

"Of course," Hermione snapped. "Anything you guys need help with would send me to Azkaban."

Harry and Draco couldn't help but grin at that. Then Draco said, "Well, whether you want to help us or not, it doesn't matter. Unbreakable Vow, remember?"

She narrowed her eyes in disgust at them. She tottered for a few moments, standing there before finally sitting down beside them.

"Fine, I'll help you," she said finally. "What are you looking up?"

"Poisons," Draco said simply.

She looked alarmed. "Poisons? Whatever do you need poison for?"

Harry put a finger to his lips. "All in due time."

When it was apparent that neither Harry nor Draco were going to reveal what they wanted with poisons, she demanded, "Who are you trying to poison?"

Harry sighed. "Don't worry about it Granger. Now come on, start looking them up."

She said nothing for a few moments; she seemed to be considering her choices – break the Unbreakable Vow and die or help these two Death Eaters kill someone else. Eventually, her own self worth seemed to win out because she said, a little guiltily, "Fine. What types of poisons should I look up?"

Harry shrugged. "Look up them all. I'm not sure what kind we'd like yet."

"All of them?" Hermione repeated, looking worried. "That's a lot of poisons."

"Well," said Draco, "Why bother looking up the harmless, get-over-in-one-day poisons? You know us better than that."

She gave him a dark look and said, "So I'll just look up the ones that can kill?"

"Yep, that sounds about right," Harry said, grinning.

For the next hour or so, Harry, Hermione and Draco flipped through the books. Hermione was a much speedier researcher than them and so she quickly located a few quite potent poisons.

"Belladonna is a nice one – women in Victorian times used to use it to dilate their pupils. That eventually led to blindness –"

"We don't want to blind them," Harry said.

"That's not all it does," Hermione snapped. "It paralyzes you, makes you convulse, have hallucinations, and send you into a coma. The berries, roots and leaves all have fatal aspects."

Harry and Draco were impressed.

"Mark that one down," Draco said, looking back to his own book. "What about this one?" he said a few moments later. "White baneberry – the berries are really poisonous. But they look like little white gumballs ... it'd be hard to get him to eat those."

"We could crush them and just use the juices," Hermione mused, flipping through her book. "There's a plant called Daphne – it's berries are red or orange, depending on the plant. It makes your throat burn and can send you into a coma ... but you have to plant it during the summer to get the berries ripe enough."

"Nope, can't use that," Harry said. "What about something more subtle than that baneberry thing?"

"There's oleander," Hermione said a few moments alter, actually sounding like she was enjoying herself. "The smoke of it burning can hurt your lungs and lead to death –" Suddenly, she stopped talking and slammed the book shut, grabbed Harry and Draco's from their hands and shut them as well, turning them upside down to block the titles and not too soon, for Madam Pince abruptly peered around the corner of one of the bookshelves.

"Library's closing," she snapped.

Harry was disappointed and wanted to stay longer, but Hermione stood and gathered up all the books, careful to fold the parchment which they'd wrote down notes on it into her pocket right away.

After Madam Pince turned around another corner to chase off other people, Harry held out his hand for the parchment. Hermione angrily handed it over and the three of them put their books away in silence.

The next day's lessons were extremely boring – the only change was that Hermione (hesitantly in the first class of the day), for whatever reason, came to sit with Harry (and Draco if the class was with the Slytherins) to do their work.

Harry and Hermione were currently sitting in Transfiguration, their second last class of the day. They were sitting and working through the questions that Professor McGonagall had assigned together. They'd gotten several odd looks from the Gryffindors, all wondering what on earth Lestrange was doing sitting with Hermione Granger of all people.

Hermione was a very speedy worker and Harry was just barely able to think of his own answers to the questions before she said hers.

"How's it going, Miss Granger, Lestrange?" Professor McGonagall asked, having come up behind them, as they were working on their last question.

"Good," Hermione said, finishing her answer. "We're done."

"Very good. Oh and don't forget, Lestrange, you have a detention this evening."

"How could I forget?" Harry asked scathingly.

She just narrowed her eyes at him and walked away.

* * *

Harry headed up to Professor McGonagall's office when it was time for his detention, though he had seriously considered just skipping it, but decided against it (stupidly, he now thought).

When he arrived, Professor McGonagall made him sit down in a desk with a quill, inkwell and parchment on the table. "Since this is your first offense at Hogwarts, you just have to write lines for me."

"Lines?" Harry repeated, raising his eyebrows. This was the punishment at Hogwarts? That was so ... weird. At home, even for a first offence, the punishment usually was gruesome - some sort of curse that you had to figure out the counter curse to yourself. Lines were so ... _Light_ side-ish.

He dipped his quill into the ink well. "What do I write?" he asked.

"I will not talk out of turn," Professor McGonagall said, her eyes carefully surveying his reaction.

Harry just rolled his eyes. But, he started to write. It took him an hour and a half to finish and by that time his arm was numb.

Finally, he was finished, and he handed the sheet of paper to Professor McGonagall mutely. She nodded and dismissed him.

The corridor was mostly empty and Harry leaned up against the wall, massaging his now sore arm.

He really hated the Hogwarts teachers.

* * *

A/N: The end of chapter eleven! Eleven! I can't believe we're here already! Wow. Thank you so much for all the reviews, everyone. Thank you times a million. If I could give you all Hogwarts letters, I would, but methinks that Dumbledore wouldn't be too pleased by a sudden influx of Muggles...myself included.

Next chapter will have Henry finding something ... something that will be very useful for him in the future (and it's not what poison they're going to use). Try and guess!

Please review!


	12. Poison and Horcruxes

A/N: I'm sorry I'm such a fail with updating so I wrote an extra long chapter for you all! Hope you enjoy and once more, I'm sorry it took me so long! Thanks for the amazing AMAZING reviews!

Oh and a note: Moody is really Moody, not Barty Crouch Jr.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to the wonderful JK Rowling.

**Chapter Twelve – Poison and Horcruxes **

It was still the first week of school, but it felt like it had been dragging on forever. But, it was Friday, so there was that much.

The Welcoming Feast had been rescheduled for this evening and so Harry, begrudgingly, followed the rest of the Gryffindor students to their table, getting a seat next to Hermione and beside the sandy haired Seamus.

Hermione had told him that there would be no Sorting this Feast, because, of course, the first years were already in their houses.

Harry looked around the Great Hall as they settled into the Gryffindor table. Instead of the usual colourful hangings around the hall they were all black, with an emblazoned 'H' in the centre.

"In respect," Hermione said, simply, at Harry's peculiar gaze.

"Oh," Harry said, looking away. He didn't feel guilty at all about the murders of the five students, since he was not the one who had done it, but he couldn't help feeling uncomfortable being in this hall with all the students who were sad about the deaths of their fellow students.

Once everyone had arrived, food appeared on all four tables. Harry had never seen the food just suddenly appear and so he was a little surprised.

"I thought you couldn't magically summon food," Harry said, lifting the lid of a steaming pot of soup.

"Of course you can't," Hermione said importantly, helping herself to potatoes. "I don't know how the school gets the food, but I've always thought that it's sent up from the kitchens."

Harry helped himself to a bit of everything – he begrudgingly had to say that the food at Hogwarts was delicious.

Once everyone was finished, Dumbledore stood and raised his hands for silence. It took a few moments, but once everyone was, he spoke.

"I would like to say a few words," Dumbledore said, his voice rather morose and sad. "You are all aware of the attack on the train when you were coming to class and I want to take this time to pay homage to our fallen friends. Remember them, who gave their lives so that you would be able to sit here and listen to me today. They were our friends, our peers, and our classmates." Dumbledore and paused and then continued, "Remember Kevin, a very smart boy whose favourite thing to do was help out those who needed it. He was one of the most amazing artists that Hogwarts has ever seen and he will be missed greatly."

When Dumbledore finished speaking, a banner fell from behind the staff table - a blue and bronze banner with a huge image of a boy, dressed in Ravenclaw robes. He was a little pudgy, with square glasses over brown eyes and a neat blond haircut.

At least half the hall gasped as the banner floated to a rest against the back wall. The Kevin on the banner smiled at the hall and gave a little wave. Several more people gasped and a few other started to sob.

Dumbledore started to talk again. "Remember Harold, one of the most ... _mischievous_ boys that our school ever saw –" Several people chuckled softly at this and Dumbledore smiled sadly. "His jokes lightened the dark mood that sometimes haunted our school and always made us see the good in a situation. He was always the one to break up a fight. He will be greatly missed."

Another banner fell right beside Kevin's, this time a black and yellow one. Harold was a dark haired boy with sparkling blue eyes. He was leaning against the edge of the banner, his arms crossed. He winked at the hall. Harry recognized him – he'd been one of the boys arguing with the Aurors about letting them fight on the Hogwarts Express.

"Remember Victoria –" Everyone at the Gryffindor table drew in a sharp breath as Dumbledore said her name – "who was probably one of the loudest girls our school has ever had. She was one of Gryffindor's best and embodied all the characteristics of that House. Victoria always made her opinion known and she was fiercely loyal to her friends. She will be greatly missed."

Victoria's banner was gold and red. She was an average looking girl, rather short with wild blonde curls and electric green eyes. She waved enthusiastically at the hall, making many of the Gryffindors choke back tears.

"Remember Benjamin, one of our school's greatest Prefects. He had a knack for knowing when someone was up to no good, but was fair and just when reprimanding them. He had a sharp tongue and when laughter escaped classrooms, it was because of the witty comment Ben had just said. He will be greatly missed.

A fourth banner fell, beside Victoria's. It was another blue and bronze one and the boy on it was very good looking. He had a thin face, with short black hair and chocolate brown eyes. He was the tallest of the four students on the banners, but looked the most serious of them all. He just nodded at the hall.

"Remember Melanie, the most loyal friend that anyone could ask for. Her loyalty to her friends never wavered and she was always ready to offer a helping hand to even those she was not on good terms with. She was a hard worker and could often be found at the library late hours into the evening. She made friends easily and her friends were too numerous to count. She will be greatly missed."

The last and final banner fell, revealing a rather pretty girl. She was dressed in Hufflepuff robes and had straight brown hair, with hazel eyes hidden behind glasses. She, like Victoria, waved enthusiastically at the crowd.

Dumbledore paused and the Hall fell silent for a good five minutes. Finally, he spoke again. "Remember Victoria, Kevin, Harold, Benjamin and Melanie and the sacrifice that they gave so you could see tomorrow's bright light. Remember that it was because of them that we are able to sit here and enjoy this feast." He paused once more and then said his voice louder and more determined than Harry had ever heard it, "Remember the one who did this to our friends and how he has torn apart our school community."

Harry had no doubt who Dumbledore was talking about and it was apparent that everyone else in the hall knew as well as there was a mumbling at Dumbledore's words.

"Sooner or later, we must all face the choice between what is right and what is easy. I implore all of you to choose what is right, so that their sacrifice may not be forgotten."

Harry now saw what the Light people saw in Dumbledore – his speech was inspirational and was probably the reason that the Light hadn't fallen so long ago.

Dumbledore sat down and the Hall fell silent once more, everyone staring up at the banners. The five students were all standing now, not leaning like Harold had been, with their heads bowed and sad smiles on their faces.

* * *

Hogwarts continued as it had for the next two weeks – Harry argued with the teachers and students alike, particularly Jason Potter and Ron Weasley.

Nothing violent had occurred out of these arguments, yet, but Harry had been on the verge of casting a deadly curse on both of the Gryffindors at one point. They had mostly been silly things – Weasley was annoyed with Gryffindor having lost so many house points due to Harry's many detentions and disagreements with the teachers and Potter was just an annoying twit in general.

The students who were completely against Harry were led by Potter. He was only in third year, but already was popular, albeit amongst the younger years. He didn't hide his dislike of Harry at all and Harry hadn't hid that he thought Potter was a spoiled, arrogant brat.

Surprisingly, Harry was on rather good terms with Neville Longbottom. Longbottom hadn't improved much in Harry's mind – after all, he was the Light side's rallying point and Harry still considered him very ignorant of the world outside Hogwarts' walls, but Longbottom had warmed considerably to Harry as Harry was trying extremely hard not to act like a jerk when he was around. Harry had never had to try to impress someone before – it was very difficult and he didn't like it all.

Harry was also surprised that Longbottom was pleasant to him, when his best friend Weasley obviously hated Harry's guts. Harry wasn't exactly sure what he'd done to Weasley, but he assumed it must be a mixture of his rudeness to the boy (calling him a blood traitor was frequent, as well as a poor weasel) and the fact that Ron was obviously not stupid and knew Harry's family.

When Harry had first arrived, most of the Hogwarts students had assumed that Bellatrix Lestrange, Voldemort's lead Death Eater, would never allow her son to attend Hogwarts and that Harry just must be on some branch of the Lestrange family tree. The fact that Harry had been Sorted into Gryffindor didn't hurt that idea either.

Draco was just as unfortunate as Harry. A Slytherin with the notable name of Malfoy and the close resemblance to Lucius made it almost a certain fact in the Hogwarts students' minds that he was the kid of a Death Eater – probably sent to Hogwarts on his father's orders.

In the time that Harry and Draco had been at Hogwarts, Harry had already gained the reputation of being a troublemaker. It didn't help that his surname was Lestrange and only a week after arriving at school, the Death Eaters had set off a huge attack and Bellatrix had been one of the leaders. Her name had been in the newspaper and sparked off many frightened whispers about Harry in the Hogwarts corridors.

The teachers also were cold towards Harry, but most of all, other than Snape and Moody, Harry suspected that McGonagall disliked him the most. She was very cold to him, and the rare times that Harry volunteered anything in class; she accepted his answer with a curt nod and continued on teaching. Harry had caught her giving him dirty looks several times, whilst walking in the corridor or sitting at dinner in the Great Hall.

Another thing about Hogwarts was the lessons. Harry was so far ahead of the Hogwarts students it was pathetic. He and Draco were both receiving top marks, making the actual Hogwarts students furious, especially Hermione Granger.

Even Harry, who just came this year, noticed that she seemed to be studying more than usual. Her eyes now had thick purple bags underneath them and her hair seemed to be getting wilder every day. She was answering less and less questions in class and she always had a book open under her desk. She'd read it and write notes on the lecture at the same time.

Speaking of classes, Harry was currently sitting in Charms class when Professor Potter interrupted him, her voice annoyed. "Mr Lestrange?"

Harry jerked out of his thoughts to see the whole class staring at him with smug smiles. Apparently Professor Potter had been talking to him.

Professor Potter realized that Harry hadn't been paying attention so she cleared her throat and said, "It's you and Miss Granger's turn to present." She inclined her head to where a very irritated Hermione stood.

"Oh," said Harry, standing and walking to the front of the room. He hadn't been listening last night in the Common Room when Hermione went over how they were going to present their assignment (for the eight time) but he figured that she would probably just make him stand there and do nothing. Hermione had planned out a whole presentation that involved them giving a complete history of the Blasting Charm and then teaching the class, so Harry's guess was spot on.

Hermione went off for about ten minutes talking about who invented the spell, what the characteristics were, what the wand motion was and what effect it caused. Harry thought that was a rather pointless note – it was called the Blasting Charm after all.

"Okay, so as Henry and I will demonstrate, the incantation is _Bombarda_."

Hermione glanced at Harry, who'd been leaning against Professor Potter's desk throughout her presentation, and Harry reluctantly stood and went to the other side of the classroom, so that he and Hermione were standing at the front of the room, ready to duel.

In their planning for this presentation, Hermione, who was clever, had point blank refused to have Harry cast the spell on her – she knew who had taught him. However, Harry had also refused – he was too proud to have a Hogwarts student cast a spell on him.

So they'd agreed to disagree – whoever cast the spell first won, in sorts.

Harry and Hermione locked eyes and both rose their wands simultaneously. Harry started to say the incantation first so Hermione, with a resigned, angry look, lowered her wand and braced herself for the spell.

"_Bombarda_!" Harry shouted. A wave of rippling white light shot out of his wand and hit Hermione squarely in the chest, sending her flying backwards into the pile of cushions that she'd set up earlier as a precaution.

It wasn't a particularly violent casting as far as Harry was concerned, but still several students jumped to their feet in alarm and hurried over to Hermione, who looked very dizzy and lost.

"Are you all right, Miss Granger?" Professor Potter asked, having also hurried over.

Hermione's eyes focused and she immediately went bright red. "Yes, I'm fine," she mumbled, pushing all the people away and standing again. She gave Harry a very dark look, who couldn't help himself – he was smirking.

"As Henry so _nicely_ demonstrated," Hermione began, her voice tight, as the class resumed their seats, "The spell is very powerful. You need the proper pronunciation of the spell –" Here her eyes flickered to Ron Weasley, who rolled his eyes. Harry felt as if he'd missed an inside joke. – "and if you pronounce it wrong, it could produce a completely different spell." She turned to Harry and rose her wand to point it at Harry. Reflexively, Harry clenched his own wand and had to resist the urge to conjure his shield to protect himself. It would only raise questions to where he had learned such a powerful shield and well ... the cover must be kept.

"_Bombarda_!" Hermione said suddenly, her voice loud and clear.

The white jet of light that shot from her wand was, surprisingly, almost as strong as Harry's had been, perhaps of equal potency or maybe even more. The light hit Harry hard in the chest and this time he was the one shot back into the cushions. They weren't particularly soft, Harry realized, as he slammed into them.

Harry had been through worse physical abuse in his life (from the tough training he and Draco went through to become Death Eaters) and so hitting the cushions didn't hurt at all. However, he was sure it had looked like it hurt, but not one person came forward to offer him a hand up. They all stared at him with uncaring eyes; some, like Ron Weasley, looked pleased.

Harry got to his feet quickly, a little embarrassed that he allowed himself to be attacked by a Hogwarts student, although he tried not to show it. Everyone turned from him to Hermione, who was already talking some more about the spell.

"Stupid school," Harry muttered darkly, as he got to his feet and returned to Hermione's side, to stand there for the rest of the presentation, sulking.

* * *

The first night that Lestrange and Malfoy had arrived, Snape, Moody, Sprout, Potter and McGonagall, as well as the other teachers, had been instructed to pay special attention to Lestrange and Malfoy – just in case they showed signs of being Dark or wanting to return to Voldemort, hence the reason Snape was currently outside Dumbledore's office.

He knocked on the door to the office and entered swiftly. Dumbledore was seated at the desk and looked up. "Ah, Severus, do come in."

Snape dipped his head and entered, sitting down in front of the desk, opposite Dumbledore.

"Lemon drop, Severus?" Dumbledore asked, offering Snape a sweet Muggle treat from a dish.

Snape looked revolted. "No, thank you," he said shortly.

Dumbledore shrugged and popped one into his own mouth. After he finished it, he asked. "How are you, Severus?"

"I've been better," Snape said sourly. After a few moments, Snape said, frowning. "He is so familiar, Dumbledore..."

"Who is?" Dumbledore asked, watching Snape from his desk, where he was absently tapping a quill on the desk.

"Lestrange. Henry Lestrange," Snape said absently.

Dumbledore frowned. "Well, of course he is. You've met him before, when you were still with Voldemort."

"No, no, that's not what I mean ... I only ever saw him briefly and never talked to him back then. His manner is familiar ... he is so like his mother in arrogance and manner, but ... but somehow –" Snape paused and looked a little ashamed – "he reminds me of Potter."

"Potter?" Dumbledore said sharply, dropping the quill. "As in James Potter?" When Snape had no reaction, Dumbledore demanded, "What do you mean, Severus?"

Snape shook his head, and ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know how to explain it... it's just ... "

"Appearance wise?" Dumbledore demanded swiftly.

Snape nodded slowly, but then frowned and shook his head again. "Yes, but –"

"James and Rodolphus were cousins, Severus," Dumbledore said, reasonably and sternly.

"Distantly," Snape snapped. "Don't tell me that a boy with that close of resemblance to Potter –" Snape abruptly stopped talking and stared down at the carpet, looking furious.

"What are you saying, Severus?" Dumbledore asked finally.

Snape narrowed his eyes at Dumbledore's tone and didn't reply.

"That Henry Lestrange is not Henry, but Harry Potter?" Dumbledore continued. When Snape said nothing, Dumbledore continued, standing to his full height. "This is very disturbing."

Snape's head snapped up. "Why? Do ... do you see a resemblance?" he asked, almost excitedly.

Dumbledore shot him a disgusted look. "I will admit that Henry is similar to James ... but they are related, albeit distantly ... perhaps the traits they share are dominant and have that in common ... but, listen to yourself, Severus. You seem to have forgotten something very crucial, Severus. Harry Potter died fourteen years ago and Henry Lestrange did not."

"I know that," Snape said. "It's just ..."

"Did you yourself not see Henry Lestrange in person four years ago, when the Order infiltrated Lord Voldemort's Headquarters?" Dumbledore asked sharply.

"Yes –"

"Then what is the problem?"

Snape remained silent.

Dumbledore sighed and sat back down. "I know how much Lily means to you, Severus –" Snape twitched violently – "but bringing back her dead son won't do anything. Harry is gone and even suggesting that he still may be alive, however impossible that is, is cruel. I saw Harry's body at St Mungo's - believe me, it was Harry. He died that night, Severus, and suggesting that another boy, who was raised under Voldemort himself, is a Potter – with no proof, Severus, either – is crueller than you having killed Harry yourself."

"I – I would _never _have done that to Lily!" Snape said, outraged. "That was her son!"

"So why do you suggest this, Severus?" He paused, rubbing his eyes. "You will not speak of this again, especially to Lily."

* * *

Harry was walking out to the grounds for Herbology, when suddenly someone came up and pulled on his cloak sleeve. Out of instinct, Harry immediately drew his wand from his other sleeve and turned around with it drawn.

Standing there, looking extremely nervous, was a young girl. She handed him a slip of paper and hurried away, shooting several frightened glances behind her as she went.

Confused, Harry opened the note. Written in slanted handwriting, was:

_Henry,_

_Please come to my office after lessons have ended this afternoon. You are not in trouble; I want to talk to you about how your year at Hogwarts has been so far._

_-Albus Dumbledore_

_P.S. The password is Sugarplum_

Wrinkling his nose, Harry crumbled the list as he walked into the Herbology greenhouses. _Surgarplum. _Honestly. But besides that, what did Dumbledore want from him?

Harry disliked the Hogwarts Headmaster incredibly. Everyone seemed to be in complete awe of him. Greatest wizard of the age? Harry snorted in contempt as he took his seat at the back of the classroom.

Thinking that Dumbledore was a great wizard was a personal opinion as far as Harry was concerned. To him, Dumbledore was a foolish old man who liked to manipulate the people around him. Harry had had his suspicions ever since Dumbledore allowed them to stay in Hogwarts. He couldn't not know that they hadn't run from Voldemort – no matter how trusting Dumbledore was, he wasn't an idiot.

Perhaps Dumbledore had finally figured out, or gotten the courage to say, that he knew what Harry and Draco were up to.

Harry snorted again. That was doubtful, seeing as they'd done absolutely nothing 'Death Eater' ish at all since they'd been here. Harry was starting to get restless and very bored with just being a student. He was supposed to be gaining Longbottom's trust – but really? Did that really take a whole year?

Thankfully, the Hogsmeade trip was next weekend and Harry would get to see Bellatrix. He'd been missing his mother dreadfully, never having been separated from her this long. He couldn't even write her – she'd delivered only one note, saying that their contact had to be extremely limited as it was likely that the letters would be read. In fact, the note that contained that information hadn't even been addressed to Harry, but to another boy in Slytherin who dropped it casually in Harry's breakfast one day as he walked to his table. Harry hadn't been able to see who it was, but he assumed it was a kid of some Death Eater.

"All right, everyone," Professor Sprout called, coming into the greenhouse. "Take your seats, let's go."

Everyone sat down at the large table, Harry beside Hermione. "What are those?" he hissed to her, gesturing to the table where a bunch of pretty flowers with what looked like fangs within the petals.

"Fanged Germaniums," Hermione whispered back.

"Today," Professor Sprout said loudly, over the little conversations that still filled the room, "We are going to be pruning the Fanged Germaniums you see in front of you. Don't snip the petals off, of course, but be very careful of the teeth – it really hurts when they bite. I'd recommend wearing your dragon hide gloves."

Harry pulled said gloves out of his bag and picked up a pair of pruners from the table in front of him. At a loss of what to do, he started to try to clip the fangs. It was harder than it looked and Harry got bit at least four times before he was finished. The finished product was hideous – the petals were all clipped off at weird angles.

Professor Sprout was handing back essays that everyone had completed and handed in two days ago. Harry knew he had failed – he had put no effort into it.

"Very good essay, Miss Granger – I especially liked your explanation of why dragon dung fertilizer is the best option." Hermione beamed as she took her essay from Professor Sprout.

Sprout turned to Harry and wrinkled her nose at his pitiful Geranium. "Your essay writing skills need some serious work, Lestrange," she said, handing him back an essay with a large D on it.

"Damn," Harry muttered, flipping over the page to read Professor Sprout's comments.

"It looks like you need a tutor," Hermione said, grinning, as Professor Sprout drifted away, handing back an essay to Longbottom with an O on it.

Harry's head snapped up. "That's right!" He looked straight past Hermione and at Longbottom.

"Hey, Neville, good job on your essay –"

"Oh thanks," said Neville, smiling in pleasure at his essay.

"I was wondering ... could you ... maybe ... tutor me?"

To say that Longbottom looked confused was an understatement. "What?" he asked, surprised. "You want _me _to tutor _you_?"

Harry nodded. "That'd be really great ... and if you needed help with Potions or whatever, I could help you out with that."

Neville still looked a little taken aback, but shrugged. "Sure, that'd be great. We could work on the homework tonight in the Common Room?"

Harry smiled. "Yeah, sure. That'd be brilliant."

* * *

When Harry arrived at Dumbledore's office, (having used the password that Dumbledore had written on the note), he headed up through the spiral staircase to where a door was open to an empty office, so he assumed he was just to enter and sit and wait for the Headmaster to arrive.

It was hardly changed from the last time that Harry had been in here. Dumbledore's phoenix wasn't around and Harry was oddly glad of it. It was very unnerving to see that bird – the symbol of the Order. Harry sat down in one of the chairs in front of the magnificent desk and gazed around him.

There was a rather odd looking book resting on the corner of the Headmaster's desk. It looked centuries old, with the leather binding cracked and peeling. Curious, Harry stood. He glanced behind him and, just to be sure, transfigured a spare quill he was carrying into a small alarm and threw it near the door, to warn him when Dumbledore was coming.

He turned back to the book. Upon further examination, he could read the title, just barely: _Secrets of the Darkest Art_. He frowned as he ran his fingers over the title. Odd, why would Dumbledore have book like this? One particular page was marked with a gold bookmark so Harry flipped open carefully to it. In faded black ink read the words: _Horcrux – the Darkest of Dark Magic._

He frowned. What was a Horcrux? The Dark Lord had told him and Draco of all types of Dark Magic ... except, apparently this.

_The one thing that man has always searched for is a solution to Death. A Horcrux is an object, either inanimate or animate, that contains a part, a fractured part, of the soul of the owner. Once the soul is encased in this object, the owner now is immortal until that Horcrux is destroyed. _

Harry started. Immortality? What? He tried to start reading again, but from behind him, he heard the door slowly beginning to open as well as the slight beeping sound of the alarm, so he instantly shut the book, turned to face the door and stepped away from the desk, his heart pounding.

Horcruxes? A way to split your soul ... how did one even do that?

Dumbledore swept into the room, smiling. His eyes darted immediately to the moved Horcrux book, of which Harry noticed, too late, that it was in a different position than he had found it. However, Dumbledore just frowned slightly, and said nothing. He gestured for Harry to sit and so Harry did, a little confused as to why Dumbledore hadn't mentioned Harry looking at the book ... and why Dumbledore had this dark book at all – he was the leader of the Light side for Merlin's sake!

"So, Henry," Dumbledore started, "How has Hogwarts been for you so far?"

Harry shrugged, trying to focus on what the Headmaster was saying, instead of Horcruxes. "It's fine," he said, tightly.

"I know it must be hard for you," Dumbledore said. "To be away from your home, your family for the first time –"

What am I, eleven? Harry thought darkly. " – especially when you've left your family under violent circumstances." Dumbledore leaned forward. "Have they tried to contact you at all?"

"What?" Harry said, startled.

"Has your mother, or perhaps your aunt or uncle, contacted you at all?" Dumbledore repeated, watching Harry carefully through piercing blue eyes. "I assume that they are all very upset with you and your cousin's decision to leave the Death Eaters –"

"No," Harry said clearly, talking over Dumbledore. "No, they've not contacted us at all." Not yet, anyways.

The Headmaster didn't look convinced, but said nothing further about that. Instead he started talking about himself. "I myself was estranged from my family from many years and I know the pain that it can bring. But, you should not take out your anger on the teachers or students here."

Harry closed his eyes briefly, trying not to sigh loudly in exasperation.

Dumbledore caught this motion and he smiled rather sadly, but moved on. "There must be something you like, Henry. What about Quidditch? I hear Gryffindor is looking for a new Seeker."

"What?" said Harry, a little taken aback. He'd known that Hogwarts had Quidditch teams ... but that was not what he was here for. "Quidditch?"

Dumbledore obviously knew he had caught Harry off guard. "Do you like Quidditch?" he asked.

"Uh, yeah," Harry admitted reluctantly, "but I don't want to play for Gryffindor," he added quickly.

The Headmaster's sad smile increased. "I can tell you dislike your House, Henry, but it is, after all, just a dorm room." He paused. "You will not even consider it then?"

Harry remained silent, staring back at Dumbledore, stubbornly.

"Well, I think it would be good for you to get involved with something," Dumbledore continued, pensively. "Do you like Gobstones? Hogwarts had a very good Gobstones club."

Harry stared at Dumbledore, aghast. "Gobstones? No thanks."

Dumbledore sighed. "If not Gobstones, then how about Wizard's Chess? Or maybe we could restart the Duelling club; since you and your cousin seem to think your education is higher than Hogwarts students ... you could be the teachers –"

"What?" Harry said, startled. "Um, no, I don't think so."

"Why ever not?" Dumbledore asked, looking amused at Harry's expression. "I've heard that you've said that Hogwarts is severely lacking in duelling abilities – why not teach your fellow students?"

Having sensed that Dumbledore wasn't going to stop until Harry agreed to something, He got to his feet. "You know what? I think I'll join Quidditch." He'd rather play Quidditch for a house he hated than teach the students how to duel or join the _Gobstones_ club.

Dumbledore smiled. "Good, good. The tryouts for Gryffindor Seeker are after the Hogsmeade weekend."

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "All right," he said shortly. "Goodbye, Dumble – Professor."

"Goodbye. And good luck."

As Harry pushed open the door, he didn't even try to stop rolling his eyes. As if he needed luck.

* * *

Harry made his way to the Great Hall for dinner before heading back up to the Common Room to work on homework with Longbottom.

Neither Longbottom nor Hermione were in the Hall, but Draco was, so Harry sauntered over to the Slytherin table to sit with him.

"Hey, Draco," Harry said, sitting down opposite his cousin.

Draco nodded in greeting and said, "Why are you so late? Dinner is almost over."

Harry sighed. "Dumbledore wanted to talk to me."

"Really?" said Draco, sounding slightly alarmed. "About what?"

"Nothing really. Told me about how he was estranged from his family like we are –" Draco snorted – "I know, right? He wanted to know what I was good at, if I liked Quidditch." Harry paused and then added, "He's making me try out for the Gryffindor team."

Draco let out a roar of laughter and couldn't stop for several minutes. "You?" he finally choked out. "Why you?"

Harry rolled his eyes and said, "He thinks I'm 'not involved' with the school or something. It was either that or teach everyone duelling."

Draco laughed again, but nothing like the roars of before. "Yeah, I'd rather do Quidditch instead ... anyways, should we go to the library tonight?"

"No, sorry, Draco, I have to study."

Draco's mouth fell open. "I never thought I'd hear you say that while at Hogwarts, Henry," he said.

Harry laughed. "I know, me neither. But I got Longbottom to agree to help with Herbology and so I suppose I should actually show up for that."

Draco smiled. "Yeah, probably."

The cousins finished eating, walked out of the Great Hall and then departed at the marble staircase, Harry up to the seventh floor and Draco down to the dungeons.

It was quite a hike to the Gryffindor Tower, but Harry made it and entered to see most of the House lounging about.

Harry spotted Longbottom, Hermione and Weasley all sitting together, at one of the tables near the fireplaces.

Harry walked over to them, avoiding Jason Potter's leg that had obviously been stuck out to try to trip him.

Weasley shot him a dark look as Harry sat down next to Hermione.

"Hello," Harry said in greeting to everyone.

Hermione and Longbottom said hello as well, but Weasley just nodded and narrowed his eyes at Henry.

"So what do you want to start with?" Neville asked.

Harry shrugged. "Herbology?" he suggested. "Then I can help you with Potions if you want."

Neville smiled and nodded. He pulled out a textbook and opened it to a random page. "Okay, so say we're going to be working with Leaping Toadstools. What's the first thing you would do?"

Leaping Toadstools sounded like the stupidest thing Harry had ever heard of, but he assumed, par the name, that they leaped.

"Put them in a bucket or something with a lid so they don't jump?"

Neville laughed. "That's a good idea, actually, but no. Their stems are poisonous to the touch so you'd have to put your gloves on first. Then?"

"Put them in the bucket?" Harry asked, sourly.

Hermione snorted, but said nothing.

"No," said Neville, grinning. "You have to harvest them first."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Harry muttered. "Fine, I harvest the stupid things while wearing my gloves _and then_ put them in the bucket."

Neville laughed. "No, not yet – the bucket will come up later. The stems are poisonous, right?"

"Right," Harry said, annoyed.

"We only want the heads of the mushroom – what should we do?"

Harry stared at Neville, bewildered. "Cut them off?" he asked, unsure.

Neville smiled. "Yes! Very good, so we cut the heads off and put them in ...?"

"A bucket?" Harry volunteered, darkly.

Neville laughed again and nodded. "Good job. All right, so we've cut the heads off and they're secure in the bucket. What about the stems?"

"Throw them out?"

"You sure? Have you checked to see if the stems can be used in any Potions?"

Harry stared at Neville – where would you even check that? "Uh, no," Harry said.

Longbottom handed Harry the book. Harry scanned the page and read, "The stems of the Leaping Toadstools can be used in the Strengthening Solution." He looked up to Longbottom and said, "All right, I get it. Read the textbook about any plant before doing anything to it."

While Harry and Neville set to work on another plant, Hermione and Ron were working on Transfiguration.

Those two seemed to have a permanent fight going on – they were always bickering and arguing over the littlest things.

Harry had learned that it was quite amusing just to listen to the pair quarrel. He was trying to focus on what Longbottom was saying the properties of a Mandrake were, but it wasn't working.

"Honestly, Ronald, this is pathetic. You're not pronouncing the incantation properly and you still wonder why it's not working? For the last time, it's Evanesco!"

"_Evanesco_," Ron repeated sourly, poking his wand at the snail he was trying to Vanish. The snail just wriggled a little and kept on crawling around the table.

Hermione let out a huge sigh. "It's not that complicated, Ron! Here –" She cleared her throat and pointed her own wand at the snail. "_Evanesco_." The snail wriggled like it had with Ron's, but then vanished into thin air. Harry, who was watching from the corner of his eye, was impressed – the Vanishing Charm was actually pretty challenging. "See?"Hermione said, triumphantly.

"Shut up," Ron said, crossing his arms furiously. "It's easy for you."

Hermione summoned the snail back and looked to Ron expectantly.

He cleared his throat and said, "_Evanesco_." Unfortunately, he mispronounced it and the snail, instead of disappearing, shot at his face like a bullet and grabbed onto his nose.

"Merlin's pants!" he exclaimed, falling backwards and desperately trying to get the snail off of his nose.

Harry couldn't help himself; he burst into laughter, as did Neville. Harry had never seen something so funny – Weasley was practically rolling around on the floor, trying to rip the snail away from his face.

"Let go of me, you bloody snail!"

Finally, Weasley succeeded, and the force of which he flung the snail at the opposite wall and it disappeared from sight.

"And that is why proper pronunciation is necessary," Hermione said, holding back her laughter.

Harry leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with mirth. "You know, the Vanishing Charm is supposed to make the snail disappear _without_ having to be flung at a wall."

"Oh, shut up," Ron said, his face bright red and his nose even redder from where the snail had stuck.

* * *

After Harry spent a good hour working with Longbottom on Herbology (which involved him wanting to rip out the textbook's pages) they agreed to meet another night for Potions. Harry whispered to Hermione that they should go to the library to do some more research.

Hermione looked relieved to get away from Weasley and she eagerly followed Harry out of the Common Room.

"We'll just go to the Slytherin Common Room and get Draco," Harry said, leading Hermione down to the opposite staircase they would take to the library.

Hermione nodded and they headed down to the dungeons.

"I've never been in the Slytherin Common Room before," Hermione said, thoughtfully, as Harry led her around a corner and down into the dungeons.

"It's cooler than the Gryffindor one," Harry said. It took a few more minutes for them to reach the entrance and when they did, Harry said, nonchalantly, "Emeralds."

"You know the password?" Hermione asked, disapprovingly, watching as the dungeon wall slid open to reveal the Slytherin Common Room.

Harry grinned and stepped in. "Of course. You coming?"

She hesitated and then shook her head. "No, I'll just wait outside."

"Suit yourself."

The Common Room was crowded, full of Slytherin students laughing, talking and doing homework. Harry spotted his cousin sitting with the pretty girl he seemed to like and Harry felt a little smug about having to drag his cousin away.

"Hey, Draco," Harry greeted, sitting down right in between him and the girl.

"Henry," Draco said, annoyed. "You remember Daphne?"

"Of course," Harry said, nodding in greeting to Daphne. He turned back to his cousin. "Listen, we're going to the library – you want to come?"

Draco nodded. "Sure – I'll see you later, Daph," he said, standing up.

The girl narrowed her eyes a little in annoyance, but just said, "Fine, I'll see you later."

Harry and Draco departed and met up with Hermione outside. They headed to the library together.

Madam Pince looked up in suspicion as they entered, but said nothing except, "Shush!"

The three, who had been having a conversation about Herbology, fell silent and made their way to their usual table in silence.

Draco headed off to find the usual books they got, followed by Hermione. Harry pulled out parchment, quills and ink wells for all three of them and by the time that he was done with that, the other two had returned, their arms full of books.

"We haven't looked through this one yet," Hermione said, opening the book and starting to read. Draco opened one as well and immediately got a bored look on his face.

Harry, who had been wanting to look up Horcruxes all day, stood. "I'm going to look for some more books," he announced.

"Okay," Draco and Hermione both said, a little absently.

Harry walked over to the poison section and cast a glance behind him. Seeing that the other two weren't paying attention to him, he slipped away from the poison section and over to the next aisle over, Dark objects. He didn't know exactly what a Horcrux was, but it seemed to be some sort of object.

"Horcrux, Horcrux," Harry said, running his hand over the book spines as he scanned them for the familiar word.

After going through the entire 'H' section, Harry figured that wasn't going to work. There had been no title that contained Horcrux. If only he had that book that Dumbledore had had in his office...

Harry headed over to the 'A' section and started from the beginning. He made it all the way though A and B, which numbered at least sixty books, and gave up.

This was ridiculous – he had no idea what he was doing. He cast a glance back to the table (he could just barely see it from the Dark Objects aisle) where Hermione and Draco were talking in hushed voices and both peering at one particular book.

Harry needed help searching for the Horcruxes and the perfect person for that was Hermione. Who else knew the Hogwarts library as well as she did? If she couldn't find information on Horcruxes, then no one could.

But ... something told Harry to keep this from Draco – he didn't know what it was, but there was something in the back of his head that warned that perhaps Draco shouldn't know about these objects.

Harry didn't like the idea of keeping anything secret from his cousin, but his gut feeling was far too potent to ignore.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts and mentally making a note to ask Hermione for help when they were alone, he headed back to the table.

"Find anything?" Hermione asked as he approached.

Harry shook his head. "No, just the books we've already looked through. There's nothing else really."

Hermione nodded. "That's true ... you know, I think I'll ask for a note for the Restricted Section. There should be some books in there about more poisons."

"You have to get a note for that?" Draco said, surprised.

"Yes, that's why it's called the Restricted Section," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "Duh."

* * *

The first Hogsmeade weekend arrived and Harry had never been more excited. Dumbledore had allowed the two boys to go, not requiring them having a permission slipped signed by their parents 'in the present circumstances'. But, he warned them about keeping close to the town where the Hogsmeade witches and wizards would be able to keep an eye on them, just in case some Death Eaters happened to be around.

Yeah, staying close to the busy part of Hogsmeade didn't really work out.

While most of the students headed off to the Three Broomsticks or Zonko's, Harry and Draco headed to the edge of Hogsmeade – to the Hog's Head.

Harry stepped into the pub and immediately surveyed the room: it wasn't that crowded, seeing as all the regular Hogsmeade customers knew when Hogwarts students came around and also since the Hog's Head was nowhere near as popular as the Three Broomsticks.

One woman, who looked very dirty and somewhat wasted, was sitting at the bar, rocking back and forth as she drank a huge tankard of whiskey. Three men, all with very thick beards and accents, were sitting at a table and laughing and talking loudly in their foreign tongue.

Suddenly, Harry's heart leapt; in a secluded corner of the pub, sat two people, heavily veiled in all black. It was only because he knew his mother and aunt so well that he could tell it was them sitting there, both hidden by heavy lace veils.

He elbowed his cousin and gestured with a slight nod of his head to the two women. Draco nodded and the two made their way over to the table. Both women looked up as they approached – the veiled woman who Harry recognized as his mother immediately grasping for her wand.

But, as soon as the sight of Harry and Draco registered with them, both jumped to their feet and enveloped their respectful sons into a hug.

Harry hugged his mother back firmly. Bellatrix rarely gave Harry any hugs now that he was older – he'd finally put a stop to all the constant mothering when he was about nine – and it was very nice to hug her after not having seen her in a month. They broke apart and quickly sat down, joining Narcissa and Draco. Narcissa grasped Harry's hand in greeting and smiled warmly at him.

"Where's Father?" Draco asked, his voice low.

Bellatrix and Narcissa exchanged a look. "He's busy," Narcissa said, giving her son a meaningful look. Draco looked a little disappointed, but nodded tightly.

"Draco," Bellatrix said sharply, as Draco made to remove his scarf around his neck. He paused and looked at his aunt quizzically. "Don't remove your scarf – there are spies all around." She tipped her head just slightly to the side, indicating the barman, a tall man with sparkling blue eyes, who was cleaning a glass with a dirty rag.

Draco looked a little surprised, but tightened his scarf around his face. Harry, feeling piercing eyes on his back, pulled his hood up over his face, just in case. Draco followed suit.

Bellatrix drew from her cloak a small chest, obviously charmed to be littler than it normally would be. "Your things," she said, sliding it across the table and over to Harry.

Harry nodded and placed it into his pocket right away.

Narcissa, alerted by her sister's movement, drew a similar chest from her cloak and handed it to Draco.

The table fell silent for a few seconds, before Narcissa asked, "How's Hogwarts been?"

Draco and Harry shrugged in unison. "Stupid," Harry said. "The classes are boring, the students are really annoying, and I hate the teachers."

Bellatrix let out a low laugh. "That's exactly how I felt about it when I was there. Do you have a favourite class?"

Both boys shook their heads. "No," Draco said. "They're all pointless and so far behind us. The teachers don't seem to realize that there's a war going on outside - they're barely preparing the students for the duelling and fighting they'll have to do. Longbottom especially is not the greatest student."

"Speaking of Longbottom," Bellatrix said, leaning slightly forward, and looking outside to the window, "Did he come to Hogsmeade today?"

Draco looked to Harry as well, but Harry shook his head. "No. I saw him earlier in the –" Harry coughed loudly, and brushed over the fact that he'd seen Longbottom in the Gryffindor Common Room and continued "– and I asked if he was going, but he said no."

Bellatrix pursed her lips. "Pity. Today would've been perfect to take him to the Dark Lord." She shook her head and then sighed. "So, did Dumbledore Sort the two of you?"

Draco couldn't help but grin at the look on Harry's face. "Yeah," Draco said. "I'm in Slytherin," he said proudly.

"Of course," Bellatrix said, nodding with a slight smile. "Henry, you as well?"

Harry was about to open his mouth and reveal the awful truth, when suddenly the Hog's Head doors burst open and several Aurors ran in, shouting and brandishing wands.

All four of them jumped to their feet in alarm. Harry looked to his mother and aunt, only to see both of them already starting to turn on the spot, ready to Apparate away. "Henry!" Bellatrix hissed, motioning to her son. Harry took a step towards his mother automatically. She pressed something into Harry's hand – it was small little box. "For you," she whispered, smiling. She winked once before disappearing with a loud pop, following Narcissa who had already disappeared.

"Dawlish!" shouted out of one of the Aurors, his wand outstretched and pointed at Harry's table, where Bellatrix and Narcissa had just disappeared from. "Didn't you put up the anti-Apparition wards?"

"I thought you were going to!" exclaimed a second man, looking aghast.

The first man let out a huge sigh of annoyance. "You probably cost a good few arrests, Dawlish! I'll be reporting this!" He looked back to Harry and Draco, who were still bundled up so you could barely see their faces. "Who're you?" he barked, advancing on them.

"Students," Draco said promptly. "At Hogwarts."

"A likely story," the Auror hissed. "What are you doing over here at the Hog's Head then? And who were you sitting with?"

Harry said, smoothly, "We're here because the Three Broomsticks was too crowded and the food's much better here than there anyways."

"Why is there no food on your table then, sonny?" snarled the Auror.

"We hadn't had the chance to order it yet," Draco snapped. "You came bursting in here before we could."

The man flushed a little, but barrelled on. "Who were you sitting with?" he repeated.

Draco waved his hand nonchalantly. "No one in particular, just some older cousins. They had a run in with you Aurors a few years ago – something about trading illegal carpets – and so that's probably why they scarpered."

The man didn't looked convinced, but the man called Dawlish said, "Oh, forget it. Come on; they're just kids."

The first man narrowed his eyes, but nodded curtly. "Get out," he snapped, jerking his thumb to the door. "This place isn't suited for kids like you. Go on, get."

Harry and Draco didn't need to be told twice. They headed to the door, and hurried out into the now blizzard.

They exchanged a look as they walked back down the street, towards Hogwarts. It wasn't safe to discuss what had just happened, but they both knew how lucky their mothers were. Harry was extremely thankful for the Aurors' extreme lack of organization; it had probably saved Bellatrix's and Narcissa's lives.

If Bellatrix had been caught, she would've been handed over to the Dementors without a question asked. Narcissa's punishment would've been less severe, but still quite bad seeing as she was with her notorious sister. Not only would it have been bad for their mothers, Harry and Draco's cover would've been blown and Voldemort would've been none too pleased.

* * *

It wasn't until Harry and Draco returned to Hogwarts and were both safely in the Slytherin Common Room that Harry unwrapped the little box from Bellatrix. He'd already peered into the little chest to see a few sets of clothing, his new Firebolt broomstick (that had been a present for joining the Death Eaters) and several (Harry had noted with amusement) books on how to befriend people.

The little box, however, he hadn't opened. Bellatrix hadn't said what it was and he thought that a gift from her would probably be best not to open in broad daylight. He untied the thin cord around it and eased the box open. Sitting in the velvet lined box was a shockingly pretty black glass eye.

"What is it?" Draco asked, as Harry lifted it out of the case and held it in his palm. The iris followed Harry as he looked at it.

"I dunno," Harry said, peering at it.

"Is there anything else in the box?" Draco asked, picking up the velvet box and shaking it. A piece of parchment fell out and floated to the ground. Draco picked it up and read it in a whisper.

_Henry,_

_This is an Occulus, a device that can record whatever it sees. Tap it with your wand and say 'initium' to start it and then to end it say 'perago.' _

_Much love, _

_B_

"An Occulus," Draco said, musing. "I've heard of them before ... my father was saying that they're pretty rare."

"Huh," Harry said, looking closely at the eye. "You know what it reminds me of?" he said, after a few moments.

"What?"

"Moody's eye, his magical one."

Draco made a thoughtful face. "That's true – can I see it?" Harry handed Draco the eye and his cousin peered at it. "You're right. Only, it's just a lot larger than a regular eye ..."

"And by the sounds of the note, it doesn't do the same thing as Moody's does." Harry reached out for it and Draco plopped it back into his hand. "This will come in handy," Harry said, pensively.

He looked at it for a few more seconds before he put it back into its velvet case, shutting the lid with a snap.

* * *

It was another evening spent in the library, researching potions. They'd been at it for an hour already with almost no progress being made.

Finally, Hermione said, "We've been only looking up poisons by themselves ... what about a potion? We could make it – I'm sure there's a recipe for a deadly one around here somewhere and it would be easier for us to – What?"

Harry and Draco had been staring at her, with their mouths hanging open.

"What?" Hermione repeated, her cheeks reddening.

"You just sounded as if you were actually _interested _in poisoning someone," Draco said, sounding amused.

She blushed even more. "I am not," she said hotly. "I'm just ... being _practical._"

Harry snorted, but said nothing.

Hermione still looked annoyed, and said in a clipped tone, "There's the Weedosoros Poison," she said, indicating the page in front of her. "Very deadly ... oh, Merlin, but look at how many ingredients you need ... there must be over fifty here!"

"Too much work," Draco said, yawning for good measure. "There's probably an easier one in here somewhere."

Something was bugging Harry – Moody was a trained Auror; surely, he'd know about antidotes to poisons.

"What about antidotes?" Harry asked. "A Bezoar can cure all poisons ... and there is probably a known antidote for every poison out there –"

Suddenly, it hit him. Why use a poison that already existed? They'd looked up poisonous plants – couldn't they just combine all said plants into one?

That would probably be extremely lethal – Moody would never see it coming.

"I know what we can do," Harry said clearly, interrupting Hermione who had just been listing off all the ingredients needed in the Weedosoros Poison.

"What?" Hermione and Draco said, looking up, their eyes holding a little bit of excitement.

"I was thinking that we shouldn't use a potion that's already known in the world. We should just make our own."

"Our own?" Hermione said sharply. "With what ingredients?"

Harry waved his hand around them. "We've been doing research for forever; we'll use the poisons that we've looked up. How can Moody have an antidote for a poison that he's never even heard of before?"

Draco looked impressed, but before he could say anything, Hermione snapped, "What about a Bezoar? You said yourself that they cure everything."

Harry frowned. "Damn ... well ..." he trailed off, trying to figure out a way to answer Hermione's question.

Hermione looked triumphant. "See? That's why that wouldn't work. Now, see, this potion here –"

"No, actually," Draco said, interrupting Hermione and earning himself a dark glare, "We should do what Henry said." He turned to his cousin and said, "Remember that one time the Dark Lord showed us how to brew potions in our lessons with him?"

"Yeah," Harry said, slowly. He didn't know where Draco was going with this.

"Well, he mentioned that there's a way to make a poison unable to detect for three days, but that the poison becomes activated after only one day and when the symptoms start to show themselves after the three days, it's already too late."

The memory surfaced in Harry's head – Voldemort had said that.

It had been one of the only times Voldemort had taught them how to make potions. Since Death Eaters weren't really the 'go in and poison someone' kind (more the slit their throat and then leave), Potions class had just been a basic of learning how to make Polyjuice and other such potions.

On this particular day, they'd been looking at a poison (which, in present time, the two boys had already voted against because it had cure that would be very easy for Moody to acquire) and Voldemort had mentioned that in order to make a potion 'undetectable' for three days was to cast a certain spell on it.

"Right! The incantation was ... Absengo, wasn't it?" Harry said excitedly.

Hermione just stared at them. "That is too good to be true," she said, a little disgusted. "A spell that makes a poison untraceable for three days?"

"Of course _you_ can't believe it," Draco retorted, scathingly, "You've never met the Dark Lord – but, of course he'd come up with something like this! A way to stop people from noticing they were dying? I wish I'd thought of it sooner!"

"Fine, then," Hermione snapped. "Say this stupid spell works –" She received death glares from both boys at calling the Dark Lord's own spell 'stupid', but continued without batting an eyelash – "why do we need to make our own poison? Can't we just use one that's already around?"

"No," Harry said, clearly. "We've never used the spell before and if, by some random chance, the spell doesn't work, the poison will still be more potent than any other ones around. Besides, what if someone catches us with all the ingredients for a known poison? They know who Draco and I are and they'd immediately assume we were going to murder someone and then all this hard work will be for nothing."

Hermione made a disgusted face at them. "You two are _revolting_. Talking about murder as if it's some sort of _game_." She shook her head and then snapped, "Fine, say we do your stupid idea – how would we make it and make sure that it's poisonous? What if the plants cancel each other out?"

"Simple," Harry said, grinning evilly. "We test it, of course."

* * *

A/N: yeah! Chapter 12 complete! Finally, eh? Don't worry, next update won't be nearly as long!

Please review!


	13. Secrets

A/N: Thanks for the amazing reviews! Lucky chapter 13; lucky for me to get this far! Sorry about the update – but the play I was in is done and so more time for me! Yay!

Oh and the word count on here is very, very off. So far, the total length, including this chapter is 97 594 words, not over 100 000. But, whatever. Anyways, onwards!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to the wonderful JK Rowling.

**Chapter Thirteen – Secrets**

True to his word and after much laughter from Draco, Harry arrived at the Quidditch Pitch for the Gryffindor tryouts. He'd been considering skipping, but he had to admit – the idea of being able to play a real, proper game of Quidditch was very alluring. So, against his better judgement and his pride, Harry decided to try out.

He walked down to the Quidditch Pitch after the classes had ended for the day to see about nine other people standing there, looking nervous. Harry started as he saw a familiar redhead.

"You trying out?" Harry shouted to Ron Weasley, who looked positively green. Harry was surprised – Weasley didn't have the build to be a Seeker.

Weasley nodded once. "Keeper," he grunted.

Ah, that made sense. Weasley was tall and broad shouldered – he'd probably be a decent Keeper.

Standing just beside Weasley was Jason Potter. He was clutching a Nimbus 2001and looked almost as nervous as Weasley.

Harry couldn't help himself. "What are you trying out for, Potter? Are first years even allowed to play on the teams?"

Potter flushed. "I'm in _third_ year," he snapped. "And I'm going out for Seeker."

Harry laughed. "Good luck; so am I."

"You?" Weasley and Potter said in unison. "Why?" questioned Potter.

Harry shrugged. "I like Quidditch – isn't that why _you're_ here?"

Before Potter could say anything in response, the Gryffindor Captain, a seventh year girl named Angelina Johnson strode forward then. She'd been discussing something with the other members of the team (who'd been on it last year). Harry recognized the two redheaded Weasley twins from the train, both who were shouldering the heavy Beater bats. The other two were girls, both with dark hair, who were obviously Chasers.

"All right, everyone, I'm Angelina and I'm Gryffindor's Captain this year. Whoever wants to try out for Keeper, head over to the goal posts with Fred, Alicia and Katie."

Of the nine people, five of them departed with one of the Weasley twins and the two girls. Fred playfully shoved his brother over as Ron joined the Keeper group.

"You four," Angelina barked, "over here; George and I are going to be testing you on your Seeking abilities. One at a time, I'll release the Snitch and we'll time you on how long it takes for you to get it. The one with the slowest time will, unfortunately, be eliminated. After that, George will be firing of Bludgers at you, while you try to get the Snitch. Whoever gets it the slowest then will also be eliminated. Then it'll be down to the remaining two."

Angelina took down their names, pausing and shooting Harry a dark look when she wrote his down.

"Okay, let's go. Adrianna, you start."

Up first was a second year girl. She wasn't a very good flier, Harry had to say, but she was quick and caught the Snitch in good time.

Then a boy who looked to be just one year older than Harry. He was big and muscular – not at all the right build for a Seeker. He was slow and caught the Snitch much later than the girl.

Angelina smiled at him, but it was strained and obviously the boy knew he was going to be cut soon.

"Go, Jason," she ordered.

Potter nodded and mounted his broom. George threw the Snitch up into the air and after a few seconds, Angelina blew her whistle and Potter lifted off.

Harry had to admit – Potter was fairly good at flying. He flew to a high height and surveyed the field before diving after a golden glint near the bottom of one of the goalposts. The Keeper who was guarding that shrieked as Potter went zooming by and let in a Quaffle.

Potter caught the Snitch easily and returned it to George.

"Good job, Jason," Angelina said, smiling. He'd been the fastest so far and Angelina seemed impressed by him.

Harry was suddenly filled with an urge to do amazingly. He didn't particularly want to be Seeker, but he sure as hell didn't want Potter to be.

Harry mounted his broom which he had received when he had joined the Death Eaters. Amongst all other presents, Bellatrix had given him a new broom as well – a Firebolt. George in particular seemed astounded by Harry's broom. That didn't surprise Harry – this was probably as close as he'd ever get to a Firebolt.

"Ready, Lestrange?" Angelina asked her voice cold.

Harry nodded and George threw the Snitch up into the air. He waited for Angelina to blow the whistle, as she had for the others, but the girl just smirked and waited a much longer time to blow it for Harry – she was giving the Snitch time to get further away.

Finally, she blew it and Harry kicked off the ground hard. It was a warm October evening with a slight breeze – it felt wonderful to be able to fly again. Harry hadn't been flying forever it felt like; he'd really missed it.

Harry had only flown on the Firebolt twice before but this time was just as glorious as the first and second had been. The broom was exquisite, seemed to know when Harry wanted to brake before he did, and was amazingly fast. Harry spotted the Snitch almost immediately; it was hovering near the top of one of the stands. He shot towards it immediately and it was almost too easy to close his hand over the smooth, golden ball.

When Harry returned to the ground, the Gryffindors standing there were in shock. Harry smirked as he handed the Snitch to George – even a delayed start couldn't stop him.

Angelina quickly wrote down his time and turned to the big boy. "Sorry, Carter, you had the slowest time."

The boy shrugged and lumbered off to the stands to watch the rest of the try outs. Quite a crowd had gathered – mostly Gryffindors, but Harry spotted a few members of the other Houses out to watch as well.

The next task was them trying to get the Snitch while Bludgers were fired off at them. Adrianna was up first. As she wasn't that great of a flyer, it was rather pathetic to watch. George hit Bludger after Bludger at her and she was too frazzled to find the Snitch. Finally, after ten minutes in which she still hadn't found it, Angelina blew the whistle and the tearful girl returned to the ground.

Potter was up next. He did better than the girl, but that wasn't hard. Harry couldn't help but snicker when he got hit in the back with one of the Bludgers. But, Potter managed to catch the Snitch and returned to the ground, moaning in pain and panting with exert.

Harry was up next. This was almost as easy as it had been before. He avoided two full speed Bludgers that came his way and caught the Snitch easily. He returned to the ground, whistling as if he'd just had a Sunday stroll.

The little girl was eliminated, as expected, and now it was Potter vs Harry.

This final test was where both of them were looking for the Snitch at the same time, with Angelina (acting as Beater) and George shooting Bludgers at them.

The Snitch was released and Angelina blew her whistle. Both boys shot into the air and began to survey for the Snitch, all the while avoiding vicious Bludger shots. Suddenly, Potter shot into the air, flying towards the empty Keeper goals at the other end of the Pitch; Harry immediately followed him.

Even though Potter had had a lead, Harry's fast broomstick and better skill made him catch up to Potter in no time. Soon they were neck in neck for the Snitch.

"Move it, Potter," Harry snarled, urging his broom forward. The Firebolt was faster than Potter's Nimbus and Harry soon overtook the boy. Harry reached his arm out, knocking Potter's out of the way. Potter let out a cry of annoyance and tried to urge his broom faster, but it was too late.

Harry's hand closed easily over the Golden Snitch. Just as he did so, a Bludger came shooting towards him and Harry was forced to aim the Firebolt to the ground to avoid it. The broom was going so fast that he had to pull up before he crashed into the ground at full speed.

The stands erupted in applause and cheers as Harry pulled out of the dive. Harry was startled – he'd really not done that good of a job as far as Harry was concerned, but okay.

Potter, who'd already landed, shot Harry an extremely dirty look as Harry landed on the ground; Harry just grinned at him.

"Good job, Lestrange!" Angelina said, sounding extremely impressed.

Harry smiled at her and nodded his thanks; Potter scowled.

The Keepers finished their tryouts in due time and the ones who had survived, Ron Weasley and a burly sixth year named McLaggen, arrived near Harry and Potter.

"All right, good job, everyone!" Angelina said, shuffling some papers. "I'll post the results in the Common Room tomorrow morning; you all did really well!"

The Chasers and Beaters huddled together and the other four departed for Gryffindor. Harry didn't talk to the other three as they walked – McLaggen, from what he could make out, was an annoying, arrogant, braggart.

Harry decided to go to the Slytherin Common Room after the tryouts. He had a quick shower then headed off. When he arrived, he didn't even hesitate in saying the password and letting himself in.

Several Slytherins shot him dirty looks as he strutted over to where Draco was lounging on a leather couch. Harry flopped himself down and shot equally dark looks at the staring Slytherins. They all narrowed their eyes, but looked away.

"What's their problem?" Harry muttered darkly.

"They were watching the Quidditch tryouts," Draco explained. "They know that that Johnson girl will choose you – we know Gryffindor'll beat us now."

Harry laughed. "Not if Potter makes the team. He'll be easy to beat. And besides, you know if I could I'd throw the match for you guys."

"Why can't you?" Draco asked immediately.

"Because it probably would upset Longbottom," Harry said. It was half the truth – the other half was that Harry just didn't want Draco's House to beat him. "I'm supposed to be trying to be his friend, remember? And, oh yeah, it'd be nice if you tried to help me with that."

Draco laughed. "I'm a Slytherin, Henry. You really think that a Gryffindor is going to want to be friends with me?"

Harry smiled. "True, true, Draco." He sighed loudly and stretched his arms. He caught the eye of a group of about fourth year Slytherins who quickly looked away. Harry couldn't help a low growl of annoyance that escaped his throat.

Draco coughed once and shook his head ever so slightly. "Don't, Henry," he warned.

Harry wanted nothing more to go over and throttle those Slytherins, but he swallowed deeply and nodded tightly. "Our first match is against Slytherin, I think," he said absently. "Sometime in November. Then it'll be Christmas –" Harry stopped suddenly. "Do you think we'll be able to go home for Christmas?" he asked softly. Both boys were suddenly sombre.

Draco was solemn. "No, I kind of doubt it. Dumbledore thinks we've ran away from our family – he'll never let us leave, especially not to go back to Death Eaters."

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat. "Right," he said, his voice sounding hollow even to him. He shook his head and said, "Well, why don't we go up to the library? Decide when we're going to start 'the project'."

Draco nodded and got to his feet. "Sure. Do you want to get Granger and meet me there?"

Harry also nodded. "Yeah, all right." They walked out of the Common Room together, but Draco headed off to the library when they reached the fourth floor and Harry continued on to Gryffindor Tower. It was much like the time that he and Hermione had gone to fetch Draco from the Slytherin Common Room to go to the library, only Draco didn't have enough courtesy to wait.

The Common Room was full of Gryffindors, and unfortunately, they all looked up as Harry entered.

"You were great at the tryouts, Lestrange!"

"Where did you learn to fly like that?"

"Is your broom a real _Firebolt_?"

Harry completely ignored these questions and located Hermione, sitting near the fire in her usual chair with a book on her lap.

"Hey," he said, coming to a stop in front of her.

She looked up. Immediately her face twitched to annoyance. "Oh, hey," she said, looking back down to her book.

"We're going to the library," Harry said, grabbing her hand and pulling her to her feet. "Let's go."

She wrenched her hand from his grasp. "I don't know why you want to go to the library _now_," she protested, as Harry led her towards the portrait hole. "It's seven thirty – and it closes at eight."

"Well, that's a half hour of research we can do," Harry snapped. "Now, come on –" Harry was abruptly stopped talking as he crashed into someone and almost fell over.

"Hey!" the other person exclaimed, whirling around. It was Potter.

For a second both of them stared daggers at each other. Then Harry snarled, "You're in my way, Potter."

The boy's face twisted into disgust at Harry, but he stepped out of the way without another word.

"Come on, Granger," Harry said, now annoyed. "Let's get to the library so we can get as much done as we can."

Hermione hurriedly followed Harry (who had stomped and stormed out of the Common Room) down to the library.

"How were the tryouts?" she asked meekly, as they walked, trying to make a light conversation starter.

Harry snorted. "Incredibly easy. I'm going to get the Seeker position for sure –"

"Arrogant much?"

Harry laughed. "I am a Lestrange, after all." He grinned and then suddenly remembered that he wanted to ask Hermione about Horcruxes. "Listen, there is something I was hoping you could help me with. I was in Dumbledore's office and there was a book on his desk about Horcruxes. Have you ever heard of them?"

"Horcruxes?" Hermione repeated, frowning. "No, no I've never heard of them –" Harry was immediately disappointed, he'd been counting on Hermione – "but I can look it up."

Harry's disappointment turned to a smile. "Okay, brilliant."

They arrived at the library and located Draco at their usual table. He'd gotten out their usual books and was scanning them as the Gryffindors sat down.

"How's the research coming?" Harry asked his cousin.

"I haven't even started," Draco said, sounding bored. "I just got all the books out."

Hermione was shuffling in her bag and then pulled out a piece of parchment. "Well, I did some of my own research. If we still want to do that stupid idea of yours, here's a list I've made of all the poisons that I think we could use."

"Oh yeah?" Harry said, looking up in interest from the book he was looking at.

Hermione nodded and handed the parchment to Harry who scanned it. She'd written about nine different plants down, listing their names, traits, how poisonous and where they were found.

"Belladonna, monkshood, white baneberry, jimson weed, moonseed, delphinium, hyacinth, oleander, water hemlock ..." Harry said, as he ran his finger down the parchment, reading the small descriptions that Hermione had written beneath each one. He nodded when he finished, and handed it to Draco.

"How many of them do you want to use?" Hermione asked, as Draco read the list over.

"All of them," Harry said simply.

"All?" Hermione repeated, shocked. "But – the potion will be a combination of all of these deadly poisons then!"

"Exactly," Harry said. "We want to maximize the poisonous aspect of the potion, right? Why not use them all?"

"But – but, we don't know how they'll all react together!" Hermione said indignantly. "What if they cancel each other out?"

"That's why we try it out," Harry snapped, getting annoyed. "Just go with it, Granger."

Draco frowned as he read the list. "Some of these we can't even get around here, Henry," he said. "Like this hyacinth one – it's not even native to Britain. Neither is moonseed."

"My mother can get all of the ones that aren't around here," Harry said, waving his hand as if that was an easy question to answer. "She'll be able to find them, no problem."

Hermione frowned. "This is going to be a lot of work, Henry," she said, slowly.

"Yeah," Harry said, reluctantly, "but it'll all work out in the end. Trust me."

They lapsed into silence. "All right," Draco said, taking charge. "Let's get started. Granger, go find a book about the Forbidden Forest – I'm sure this school has one." Hermione nodded and got to her feet, disappearing around the corner.

Hermione came back within a few minutes, reading an open book as she walked. As she sat down, she said, "Listen, I was thinking –"

But, before Hermione could reveal what exactly she was thinking, she was interrupted by a stern voice. "What's going on here?"

Harry, Draco and Hermione immediately turned to face an extremely suspicious and livid looking Professor McGonagall.

Harry felt his mind go blank. McGonagall? What – what was she doing here?

Hermione was the first to recover under the teacher's harsh gaze.

"It's a project, Professor," she said clearly, deftly moving one of the textbooks over her parchment of notes, as if she was just shuffling the papers nervously. "Henry is doing really poorly in Herbology and so I offered to help him do a project on poisons to boost his mark."

Harry was astonished – Hermione was ... _defending_ them?

"Really?" said Professor McGonagall. "So if I were to ask Professor Sprout about this, she would know?"

Hermione fell silent, but Harry spoke up, surprising himself and making both Draco and Hermione shoot him horrified looks. "No, because I didn't ask her about it. I wanted to surprise her with me actually doing work. You can ask Neville Longbottom," he added, for good measure, "He's been helping me improve my Herbology mark."

Professor McGonagall still looked suspicious. "Why did you do this project on poisons?"

Harry couldn't help it. "Why not? After all, I'm doing this project to improve my mark ... why not do it on something that I already know about?"

Hermione inhaled sharply as if she couldn't believe Harry had said that and Draco coughed to suppress a snort of laughter.

Professor McGonagall didn't look impressed. "Well, when you've finished this project for Professor Sprout, deliver a copy of it to me as well."

"That's a good idea, Professor," Draco piped up, nodding gravelly.

Harry shot his cousin the darkest look he could must, but said smoothly, "Of course." Great. Now he'd actually have to _do _the stupid thing to get McGonagall off his case.

Professor McGonagall smiled grimly. "Excellent. Now, hurry up and finish your work for the night - the library closes soon."

The three nodded and Professor McGonagall, with one more angry stare at Harry, turned and left.

Once her high heel footsteps had faded from earshot, Draco voiced what all of three of them were saying: "That was close."

"Yeah, thanks a lot, you jerk," Harry snapped. "'That's a great idea'?"

Draco couldn't hide his smirk. "Well, I thought it was," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Harry rolled his eyes and then asked, "What was she even doing here?"

"It is the library," Hermione said reasonably. "She was probably getting a book and overheard us talking about poisons."

There was a momentary silence before Harry spoke again. "Thanks for ..." he paused, not sure how to not sound stupid, "not selling us out."

Hermione smiled but said nothing.

Draco pointed his wand at the ceiling suddenly. "_Muffliato,_" he said, before turning to face Hermione. "Anyways, what were you going to say before McGonagall came bursting in?"

"Oh," Hermione said, sounding a bit flustered, "I was thinking that we shouldn't go around looking in the Forbidden Forest for the poisons." Harry and Draco both opened their mouths in argument, but Hermione kept talking, raising her voice to be heard. "If we really need these plants, I'm sure that Snape will have them in his private store cupboard. As much as I disapprove of stealing, it will be easier – and safer – to just take it from there instead of looking around the Forbidden Forest like idiots. And, oh yes, I forgot to tell you: we've all been complete idiots – the belladonna essence comes with our potions kit."

Harry sat, dumbfounded. "Really?" he asked.

Hermione nodded. "Yeah; I can't believe none of us even looked in there."

"Are there any other ones?" Draco asked.

"No," Hermione said, shaking her head. "I looked when I thought of it. But, I'm sure that Professor Snape will have almost everything we need and if not, your mother can get it, right, Henry?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I'll find out what it is we need and tell her." He leaned forwards and dropped his voice to a whisper, ignoring that since Draco had cast the Muffliato spell no one could hear them anyways. "We should get the supplies as quickly as possible, so that we have them for sure. When do you think we'll be able to do that?"

Hermione frowned. "It's going to be hard," she said, unenthusiastically. "Sneaking into Snape's private store rooms ..."

"You suggested it," Draco said, rolling his eyes.

"Yes," Hermione hissed, "But only because I think this would be safer than getting ourselves killed by Merlin knows what in the Forbidden Forest. But just barely."

Harry laughed. "Stealing is easy for Death Eaters, Granger. We'll be fine."

* * *

The next day, Harry headed over to the bulletin board, surprisingly eager to see who had made it. In what was apparently Angelina's neat writing was:

_Keeper – Ronald Weasley (Reserve Keeper is Cormac McLaggen)_

_Seeker – Henry Lestrange (Reserve Seeker is Jason Potter)_

Harry's face spread into a broad smile. Yes! He'd made it! He looked back down to see what else she'd written.

_Thanks to everyone who tried out! It was a really tough decision and I'm sorry we can only have one Keeper and Seeker. Great job and congratulations to the winners! The first practice is Saturday morning at eight o'clock. DON'T BE LATE! Go Gryffindor! – AJ_

Grinning, Harry stepped away to let other people have a look. He saw Jason Potter coming down the dormitory steps and he called out to him. "Better luck next time, Potter!"

Potter looked a little confused, but when he noticed Harry's gesture to the board, his face darkened and he stomped over to see for himself. His face got even darker as he read the list and when he looked up, Harry's smile just grew larger at the expression on the boy's face.

* * *

It was the middle of the night and the corridors of Hogwarts were completely empty, save for a few scarce ghosts.

"This is a bad idea," Hermione whispered, sounding very panicked. "A very bad idea. We're going to get detention or ... or worse!"

Harry, Hermione and Draco were standing in the near empty corridors of Hogwarts, during the middle of the night.

"Shut up," Draco hissed back at her.

"Honestly, Granger," Harry muttered, "This was your idea."

"But – he's going to notice that all of his poisons have mysteriously disappeared!"

"Keep your voice down!" Harry snarled at her. He dropped his voice to a low whisper and snapped, "No, he's not. I can do a decent enough replicating spell and we can return the poisons as quickly as we can. _He'll never notice_."

It was several days since the Quidditch results had been posted and the three of them were all very anxious about sneaking into Snape's private store room. Snape didn't scare Harry by any means – he was scared of what would happen if they were found. Their cover would be blown ... he shuddered, just thinking of Voldemort's anger if that were to happen.

It was very crowded under the one Invisibility Cloak (the one from the Hogwarts Express attack that Harry and Draco had used), as no one had refused to stay behind. Hermione had to go, of course, because she was the only one who knew where the stores were and what exactly the poisons all looked like. Harry had refused to let her go alone – she would probably replace the poisons with something else, something not poisonous. Draco had point blank refused to stay behind; he hadn't really given a good reason, just snarled that he'd rat them out if they even tried to go without him.

With no doubt that Draco meant that (he had been acting very odd lately, Harry noticed), they had all three agreed to go as a group effort.

"Are we almost there?" Draco hissed, sounding annoyed.

"Yes," Hermione whispered back. "It's just around this corner."

The three of them moved silently around the corner, Harry peering around it first to make sure no one was there.

Hermione led them to a small door near the end of the corridor. She drew her wand and pointed it at the door, murmuring, "_Alohomora_!"

There was a small clicking sound, and the door opened ever so slightly.

"Come on," Hermione whispered, pushing the door open and leading the other two in. "_Lumos_," she said, lighting the tip of her wand and taking the Invisibility Cloak off.

Harry and Draco did so as well, illuminating the small room around them. It was closet sized, with rows of bottles and jars going up at least eight shelves on all four walls; there were even shelves above the doorway. There were two ladders in the room, one against the back wall and another on the east wall.

"One of you stand guard," Hermione ordered, starting to climb one of the ladders, and casting a nervous look behind her at the door as she did. They'd closed it as they entered, but she was still paranoid that Snape was going to find them.

Draco moved to the door, standing in front of it, just barely able to see out of a little hole in the door.

Harry climbed up the other ladder and began to peer at the rows upon rows of bottles and jars. The wand light didn't help much and he had to strain his eyes to read anything. He waved his wand once, summoning several floating, lit candles. Two of them floated over to Hermione and two to him as well.

"Thanks," Hermione said, just barely looking up from scanning the bottles.

It took several minutes before anyone found anything (Draco had resorted to looking around at eye level at the shelves near the door).

"Here's something," Draco said, pulling out a bottle of dried, bluish petals of a flower. He'd resorted to looking around at eye level at the shelves near the door. "Hyacinth flowers. That was on the list, right?"

"Yes," Hermione said, still standing on the latter. "Put it in my bag."

Draco leaned over to place it in the bag that Hermione had brought, but Harry called out. "Wait." He jumped down from his ladder (shaking the shelves as he hit the ground) and pointed his wand at the bottle. "_Effingo_," he said. Immediately, another bottle appeared, identical to the one Draco was holding. It floated in mid air, slightly revolving.

Harry took it and placed it on the shelf where the hyacinth flowers had been.

Draco nodded at Harry and then put the real bottle into Hermione's bag.

Each of them returned to looking and almost immediately Hermione found another. "Here's moonseed berries." She held out a jar of bright red berries, which were the shape of a crescent moon. Pointing her wand at it, she said, "_Effingo_." Just as it had for Harry, another jar appeared and Hermione placed the duplicate back onto the shelf, handing the real jar to Draco on the ground. "There's also moonseed juice," she said, looking back at the shelf.

"Take that too," Harry said, pulling out a small bottle, in which there was a speckled, amber liquid inside. "Delphinium was on the list, right?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Draco said, straightening from putting the moonseed juice into the bag.

Harry nodded and then pulled out the bottle. He duplicated it and then handed the original to Draco.

Within the next several minutes, they found almost everything.

"Here's the monkshood," Hermione said, pulling out a small jar.

"Oh, I found the white baneberry –"

Suddenly, all of the lights went out, plunging the whole room into darkness.

"What was that?" Harry hissed, almost falling off of the ladder. "Who turned the lights out?"

"I didn't," Hermione said indignantly, from somewhere to his left.

"Shut up," Draco hissed, his voice near the door. "There's someone outside!"

"Yes, Severus," a voice was saying, growing louder every single moment, "I do understand your concern –"

Harry, still clutching the bottle of the white baneberry berries, felt his way down from the ladder and dropped to the ground, trying to be as silent as he could.

"_Lumos_," he said and his wand tip lit up, enough for him to see Hermione's terrified face and Draco's rather confused one.

Harry quickly put his jar into the bag as Draco pulled the Invisibility Cloak over everyone. "_Nox_," Harry muttered quickly, extinguishing his wand.

The voices grew louder and louder, and the door suddenly swung open, flooding the tiny room with light.

Harry's eyes burned with the sudden change in light and he blinked rapidly to try to focus on what was going on.

There were two people there, one being Snape and the other Dumbledore. Dumbledore had been talking, but he fell silent as Snape came into the cupboard and headed to the back ladder.

Harry, Hermione and Draco all immediately pressed themselves against the wall, accidently shaking the shelves.

Snape's eyes immediately snapped to the wall and he narrowed his eyes in the general direction of the trio. Finally, though, he must've decided that it was just the castle stretching its bones because he looked back to the shelf in front of him.

He took down a small vial of silvery liquid and then climbed down the ladder, departing the room quickly. Snape slammed the door shut behind him, making the vials shake around the room and plummeting the room into darkness once more.

Dumbledore and Snape's voices and footsteps soon disappeared and it was only then that Harry let out the breath that he was holding.

"_Lumos_," Draco said, lighting his wand and illuminating his and Harry's alarmed faces and Hermione's pale, terrified one.

"Let's get out of here," Hermione said; her voice high and a little squeaky. "Henry's mother can get everything else we need."

Harry and Draco exchanged a look, but both nodded. "All right, let's go." Harry didn't bother to duplicate the white baneberries, just stuffed it into Hermione's bag.

"_Alohomora_," Harry said, opening the door that Snape had just locked. It clicked open and the three of them hurried outside.

Draco escorted Harry and Hermione to Gryffindor Tower and then, once they were in, headed down to the Slytherin dungeons.

The Common Room was completely deserted and Hermione immediately made her way to the girl's dormitories, thrusting the bag of poisons at Harry as she went.

"We are _never _doing that again!" Hermione hissed. "Next time your mother can get us all of the supplies!" She turned on her heel and stomped up the stairs.

Harry couldn't help feel amused. The next time?

* * *

Saturday morning arrived too soon and Harry was still sleeping in his bed when a rough hand shook him awake. "Lestrange!" yelled the very irritated voice of Weasley in his ear. "Get up!"

Harry groaned, his head pounding. "What? Why?"

"The match, you idiot! It's starting soon!"

"Match?" Harry asked, rolling over and almost falling right out of the bed. "What time is it?"

"Ten o'clock," Weasley said. "The match starts at eleven."

Sighing loudly, Harry sat up and shoved the covers off of him. "All right, I'm getting ready – that's your cue to get lost," he added darkly.

Weasley's face went beet red and he turned on his heel, stomping out of the dorm with heavy footsteps.

Harry just rolled his eyes and grinned, before heading to the bathroom to shower and get dressed. Poor Weasley was still not used to the idea of Harry playing on their team.

Today was Gryffindor's first match of the year and if Harry was being honest, he was a little nervous. He wasn't afraid of the competition, but he'd only played Quidditch with Draco before and never in a real game. The practices had helped, but they'd been brutal, more brutal than Harry had expected. Angelina Johnson was ruthless and she put the team through four practices a week. By the time that their first match was a week away, Harry was the only one who was able to get up on the chilly mornings – he was used to hard training and so this was nothing. He simply thought that Angelina's training regime was ridiculously intense for just Quidditch. After all, it's not like they were training to kill or anything ... although Harry could've sworn he heard her mutter about just killing the Slytherins if they beat Gryffindor...

The other members of the team, especially the three Weasleys, had taken a long time to get used to the fact that a Lestrange was their Seeker. The Weasley twins especially didn't like having to protect Harry from the Bludgers and Harry suspected that they were going to lob a few at him themselves today.

Ron Weasley was an all right Keeper – he just seemed to get really nervous really quickly. Harry wondered briefly why he'd been chosen instead of McLaggen, but he'd heard Katie Bell, one of the Chasers, talking to Angelina and the other Chaser, Alicia Spinnet, that McLaggen was, as Harry suspected, arrogant and wasn't a team player.

That only made Harry wonder – what on earth had made them think that _he _was a team player? Maybe the fact that he was a suspected Death Eater (after all, weren't they like a team?) played into that decision. Or maybe Angelina was smart and just didn't like Potter. Yeah, that was probably it.

Harry finished his shower and hurried downstairs to the Great Hall, clad in his scarlet Quidditch robes. He didn't like having to sport the fact that he was in Gryffindor, but whatever. That couldn't be avoided forever.

Most of the school had already left for the Quidditch Pitch so Harry ate hurriedly, hoping it would stay down while he flew, and hurried out himself.

The weather outside was similar to yesterday's, in that it was just bitingly cold outside with no wind and no snow.

When Harry arrived at the Gryffindor locker room, he was jumped on by Angelina.

"Where have you been?" she shrieked, hitting him hard. Harry immediately threw up his hands in defence and slid the wand he always carried in his sleeve into his hand.

"Sorry!" Harry exclaimed, ducking a blow from her, but still kept his wand trained on the girl. "I slept in; calm down, I'm here now!"

"Don't ever be late for a match again!" Angelina shouted.

Harry headed over to the benches and pulled his knee and elbow pads towards him. "Okay," he said, "Keep your knickers on."

The three Weasleys couldn't help but snort, but they quickly covered it up with a coughing fit.

"All right, team," Angelina said, once Harry was ready. "It's bloody cold out there today, but that doesn't matter. If Henry can get the Snitch quickly then we'll be all right. But, just in case, we're going to be playing our best."

George scoffed. "Of course, Angelina. This is _Slytherin _we're talking about here."

"We're not going to let them beat us," Ron said, disgusted.

Angelina grinned. "Henry, they've got a new Seeker this year – I don't know who it is, they've kept it a secret – so watch out. I can't tell you what to watch out for like I could for Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw."

Harry nodded. "It'll be fine."

Angelina smiled at everyone. "All right, let's do this, people."

The team filed out of the change room after her and waited behind the barrier for the commentator to announce them.

"And ... here we have the Gryffindor Quidditch team!" shouted the commentator, Lee Jordan, as Harry and the Gryffindors came onto the field. "Bell, Spinnet, Johnson, Weasley, Weasley, Weasley – three Weasleys on this team; what's the world coming to? –" the crowd laughed – "and new Seeker Lestrange!"

The crowd cheered, but it was a little late. Harry walked with the rest of the Gryffindor team to the middle of the Pitch, where they stopped to greet the Slytherins. The stands were full of Gryffindor supporters – it looked like all of Hufflepuff and most of Ravenclaw was cheering for them as well. One whole section, however, was completely decked out in green and silver.

Harry looked away from the stands as Jordan began to announce the Slytherins. Harry was rather anxious to find out who their Seeker was.

"And ... the Slytherin Quidditch team!" The Slytherins cheered as their seven players entered the pitch. "Warrington, Montague, Pucey, Bletchley, Vaisey, Urguhart _and_ Malfoy!"

Malfoy?

Harry's jaw dropped in surprise as, walking just left of the captain in the middle, was, indeed, Draco.

Harry was still gaping, still surprised, when Madam Hooch, the referee, came forward. She'd magnified her voice and turned to the stands. "Before the match begins, we will have a moment of silence in respect for our lost Hogwarts students."

The chatter almost immediately faded from the stands. The Slytherin team looked a little morose, but nothing the Gryffindors. Every one of Harry's teammates' smiles fell from their faces and remained solemn until Madam Hooch nodded and said, "Thank you. Now, let the game begin!"

She released the Bludgers and the Golden Snitch as the crowds let up a roar of cheers and hollers, then turned to face the teams again.

"Captains, shake hands," she ordered.

Angelina and one of the tall Slytherin boys stepped forward, shook hands briefly and then let go.

Madam Hooch took the Quaffle in her hands and tossed it up in the air. There was a blur of colours as all the fourteen players immediately kicked off and shot into the air.

As the teams flew into the air, Harry flew over to Draco and shouted, "Why didn't you tell me you were on the team?"

"What, and spoil the surprise?" Draco hollered back, grinning from ear to ear. "Good luck, Lestrange! You're going to need it!"

Harry, who had been considering throwing the match for Slytherin, now drove all those thoughts from his mind. He was going to beat Draco and beat them badly.

"Slytherin takes possession of the Quaffle," said Lee Jordan. "Curtis Warrington dodges a Bludger shot by Gryffindor Beater – I think that was Fred – and passes to Graham Montague. Ooh, intercepted by Gryffindor Chaser Alicia Spinnet! Go Alicia! Gryffindor in possession!" The Gryffindor supporters cheered Alicia grabbed the Quaffle and sped off towards the Slytherin goal posts.

"Spinnet shooting towards the Slytherin goal, but what's this! Slytherin Chaser Warrington is heading straight for her – duck Alicia duck!" There was a resounding _crack_ as the two players collided. Harry winced.

"FOUL!" shouted every Gryffindor supporter; the Slytherins cheered.

"That certainly does deserve a penalty! Oh, and yes, Madam Hooch has blown the whistle. Angelina Johnson – what an attractive girl she is; sorry Professor –" Harry glanced over in amusement to see Professor McGonagall trying to wrestle the microphone away from Jordan – "anyways, she flies forward to take the penalty shot for Gryffindor – GRYFFINDOR SCORE! 10-0!"

The scarlet clad supporters burst into applause, as Katie and Alicia (who hadn't been hurt by the collision) high fived Angelina as she flew by.

"First goal of the game scored by Angelina – brilliant girl ... _sorry_ – Anyways Slytherin in possession of the Quaffle now. Montague dodges a nicely aimed Bludger from George Weasley. He passes to Pucey, who immediately hands it off to Warrington. Warrington passes it – no, intercepted by Johnson! Gryffindor in possession. Johnson to Bell to Spinnet – nice catch there Alicia – back to Bell – ooh, not nice! Katie drops the Quaffle as a Bludger, sent from Tanner Urquhart and it's taken up by Montague. Passes to Warrington. He dodges a Bludger – AIM BETTER FOR MERLIN'S SAKE – and he shoots the Quaffle – NO, he is stopped by Gryffindor Keeper Weasley!" There were loud boos from the Slytherins but cheers from everyone else. "Good job, Ron!"

Harry looked away from scanning for the Snitch to see Ron pump the air in success.

"Weasley passes the Quaffle off to Johnson. Gryffindor in possession, heading to the Slytherin goal posts – NO! Johnson drops the Quaffle after a Bludger hits her. Slytherin now in possession – Montague to Warrington, back to Montague – SLYTHERIN SCORES! 10-10!"

Harry swore loudly. The seven Slytherin players flew together and high fived and patted Montague on the back. Harry briefly considered going over there and hitting Draco over the head.

The game resumed and soon Gryffindor was winning again.

"BRILLIANT GOAL, KATIE! 20-10 for Gryffindor! Slytherin in possession –"

Suddenly, a Bludger came streaking towards Harry and he was forced to do a silly little twirl in the air to avoid it.

Unfortunately, Draco spotted this and shouted gleefully, "Graceful, Henry! You should join gymnastics!"

Harry fingered him.

"Slytherin, in possession again, racing down to the Gryffindor goalposts! Shot by Pucey – oh, nope! Not today Slytherin! Gryffindor Keeper Weasley saves it and passes it off to one of his Chasers. Katie Bell speeding towards Slytherin's goal – Urquhart hits Bell with a Bludger – Bell drops the Quaffle and Slytherin takes possession – Pucey racing towards Gryffindor's goal – he ducks below a Bludger sent his way by a Gryffindor Beater – Fred or George, can't tell which – SLYTHERIN SCORES! 20-20!"

But it was not a tie for long. Angelina scored twice in a row, followed in quick succession by a goal apiece to Katie and Alicia.

There had been no sign of the Snitch yet and the Slytherins were getting angrier and angrier about not being in the lead.

"Gryffindor in the lead, 50-20. Slytherin does not look happy," commented Jordan. "Their Beaters have been especially vicious these past few minutes, almost knocking the Gryffindor Keeper off his broom two times. Slytherin is currently in possession – Montague to Warrington to Pucey – back to Warrington – SLYTHERIN SCORES! 50-30!"

The green and silver side erupted in cheers and they were so loud that they couldn't be muffled by the Gryffindor booes.

"Still no sign of the Golden Snitch!"

Harry was getting anxious. It was rather chilly out and he wanted to have this game over and done with. He hadn't seen the Snitch at all and that was a little worrying. Usually he'd be able to spot it right away, but ... apparently not today.

The game continued on for about twenty minutes, in which Gryffindor scored twice and Slytherin three times (70-50) when suddenly, Harry spotted the Snitch. It was hovering near one of the Slytherin Beaters – he immediately dove towards the boy.

"MERLIN'S PANTS, I THINK LESTRANGE'S SEEN THE SNITCH!" Jordan shouted. Unfortunately, this alerted Draco, as well as the Slytherin Beaters, who immediately shot off after Harry and fired Bludgers at him, respectably.

"Come on, Lestrange!" Lee was shouting, but Harry wasn't listening to him. The Firebolt was going as fast as Harry would make it, but unfortunately, Draco also had a Firebolt. His cousin caught up to him in no time. Both of their arms were reached out for the Snitch, but unluckily for the both of them, a Bludger came shooting towards Draco, who was forced to crash into Harry to avoid it.

"BLOODY HELL!" Harry yelled in alarm, as Draco slammed into him and sent him flying off course.

When he was able to catch himself, the Snitch had disappeared.

It went on like this for another hour. At one point, Draco feinted and made Harry almost crash head on into the ground.

"Slytherin Seeker tricks us all into believing the Snitch had been sighted and almost kills Gryffindor's Seeker in the process."

"Hear that?" Harry hollered at his cousin. "You almost killed me!"

"Just paying you back for all those years ago!" Draco shouted back, grinning before zooming away.

Gryffindor was still in the lead, but the game was getting deadlier. Katie had been attacked by both Beaters, who decided that it was a good time to ignore the Bludgers and start hitting her with their bats instead. Madam Hooch had awarded a penalty to Gryffindor for that, but Katie had been too shaken up to score the goal.

Harry was anxious. He wanted this game over with. The score was now 130 to 100, for Gryffindor.

Wait – what was that gold thing glinting towards the Gryffindor goal posts? Was it – yes, it was!

Harry shot through the air like a bullet – Draco was on the other side of the Pitch; there was no way he could catch up this time.

"I think Lestrange's seen it again!" Jordan shouted. "Look at him go – that's a Firebolt for you all!"

Harry weaved through the goalposts, chasing the bloody little ball back halfway the way he'd come before he finally gathered enough speed to warp his fingers around the cold surface of it.

"LESTRANGE CATCHES THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR WIN! GRYFFINDOR WIN 280 to 100!"

The crowds erupted into screams and cheers. The entirety of the Gryffindor team (excluding Ron) zoomed towards Harry and tackled him, the three girls shrieking in delight. The two Weasleys were shouting in victory. Harry, who was in complete shock that he'd won the match for Gryffindor and the fact that they were all hugging him, stumbled as the team landed on the ground.

The Gryffindor supporters were flooding onto the Pitch, all jumping up and down with joy. Harry felt himself being hugged in all different directions – something he'd never experienced before.

He didn't like it.

The moment the last person let go of him, he immediately turned and ran for the change room, through the cheering crowd.

He almost barrelled right into Draco, who was standing off to the side with a disgusted look on his face. Harry couldn't help it – he waved cheerily and hollered, "Go Gryffindor!"

As Harry walked away, grinning, he couldn't help think to himself that the only reason he had won the match was that he just didn't want Draco to. Family rivalry was quite something.

* * *

After Lestrange's spectacular performance at the game, all the Gryffindors had waited inside the Common Room with bated breath for Lestrange to arrive, to congratulate and welcome him as one of their own. He was no longer an outsider, a disgrace to Gryffindor House, but their new hero.

Jason was sulking. No one even seemed to realize that their sudden hero was the kid of an insane murderer, one who had threatened him just recently; even Melinda was looking around, excited for Lestrange to arrive.

"This is stupid," Jason muttered, crossing his arms and glaring at a group of giggly girls near the fireplace, all who were looking at the portrait hole every few seconds with anxious looks.

Ron Weasley, who felt just as disgusted with the Gryffindors as Jason did, nodded in agreement. "They've all forgotten that he's a Lestrange," Ron said darkly.

Suddenly, the portrait hole swung open and Lestrange walked in, looking very tired. Everyone jumped up to greet him, all cheering and shouting.

"Disgusting," Jason repeated, taking a swing of Butterbeer.

* * *

A/N: Chapter 13 done! What do you all think of Jason's opinion of Harry? Their relationship will grow and become important to the story as it goes on, so keep reading to find out what happens!

Next chapter will be ... well, here's a hint: it's called **The Marauder's Map**. I'll let you figure out what that might mean for yourself :)

Please Review!


	14. The Marauder's Map

A/N: Thanks for the amazing (and I mean amazing) reviews! Here's chapter fourteen – a lot of you guessed what the title meant... next time I'll have to be sneakier.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to the wonderful JK Rowling.

**Chapter Fourteen – The Marauder's Map**

Harry knew as soon as he entered the Common Room that returning there was a bad idea.

"Way to go, Lestrange!"

"You're the best Seeker we've ever had!"

"We're definitely going to win the Cup this year with you on the team!"

Harry smiled weakly and tried to shake them off. "Yeah, great," he heard himself saying. "Great, now – get _off_ of me – no, really stop –"

But it was no use. The stupid, hypocritical Gryffindors who had just recently all hated him, were now in love with him. Gryffindor hadn't beaten Slytherin in years, it appeared, and now, due to him, they'd won.

Well, if he'd known that, he never would've tried to win the match at all.

Not everyone, however, was in love with him. Led by Weasley and Potter, about twenty people were sitting or talking near the fireplace, completely ignoring Harry.

Finally, Harry was able to shake the Gryffindors off. He grabbed a chilled Butterbeer and headed upstairs.

The dorm room was empty and Harry was glad of it. He undressed and changed into his pyjamas, hopping into the warm bed.

He could still hear the loud sounds from the Common Room – the Gryffindors were now cheering the other members of the team just as loudly as they had him.

Their hypocrisy made Harry wish for home. He was supposed to be in his bed at Lestrange Manor right now, not in Gryffindor Tower. He and Draco were supposed to be training for a new mission or torturing some prisoners ... not in opposite Houses, competing and attending extremely boring classes.

At the very least, he wished he was in Slytherin. He wished he was the Slytherin Seeker, their hero for winning the match against Gryffindor.

Harry sighed loudly and finished his Butterbeer. He placed the empty container on his night stand and rolled over. Within moments, he was asleep.

* * *

For the next few days, Harry wanted to scream. Everywhere he went Gryffindors would come up and pat him on the back, thanking him for their victory.

It was ridiculous – if Harry had known that Quidditch meant so much to the school, he never would've tried out. He'd spoken to Angelina about perhaps dropping his spot, but he'd been screamed and yelled at for fifteen minutes straight just for suggesting it, so he hurriedly retracted the idea.

Not everyone was pleased though. Harry had spotted Ron Weasley and Jason Potter talking in low voices in the corridors, shooting him furtive looks and stopping their conversations when he drew near.

Since this was getting too ludicrous, he decided that no matter what, he was throwing the next match. Harry thought it would bring the Gryffindors down a notch if he made them lose against Hufflepuff of all Houses.

But that match wasn't for a long time, so in the meanwhile practices, Harry played the perfect little Seeker. The other members of the team, excluding Weasley, were so confident after their win against Slytherin that they didn't even suspect a thing. The other members of the team made it their mission to speak and be as civil as possible to Harry. Very annoyed with this, Harry was actually glad that Weasley still ignored him.

In between the practices, Harry still had to attend classes. Those stupid classes.

He was just leaving Transfiguration after writing a long essay when a cold voice called out his name and made him turn around to see who it was.

Draco was standing there, leaning against the stone wall. His eyes were ice as he watched Harry walk over to him.

The cousins had been on very cold terms since the Quidditch match and so Harry was very surprised to see his cousin standing there.

"I need to talk to you," Draco said, his voice low.

Harry, who was getting used to Draco's curt tone, nodded and said, "All right."

Draco discreetly pointed his wand at the ceiling above them (pretending to scratch his head) and muttered, "_Muffliato_." He lowered his arm and said, "We're behind, Henry."

"Behind in what?" Harry asked, a little confused.

"What do you think?" Draco snapped. "We need to focus on befriending Longbottom – this whole poisoning Moody is great and all, but that's not what we're here for. When the Dark Lord finds out about how we've basically been ignoring Longbottom –"

"I haven't," Harry said loudly, talking over his cousin. "I haven't been ignoring him. _You_ have –"

"I can't very well make friends with him when I'm in Slytherin!" Draco snarled. "He's not that stupid, Henry, however much you want to make him out to be. _You're_ the one who has to befriend him and you're too busy hanging out with Granger and researching the poisons and playing Quidditch and being Gryffindor's golden boy –"

"I didn't ask to be in Gryffindor, Draco!" Harry exclaimed. "What's wrong with you?" he demanded angrily.

"With me?" Draco repeated, appalled. "What's wrong with _me_? You seem to have forgotten who we are and why we're here! We are _not _here to play Quidditch –"

"You play Quidditch too!" Harry snarled back.

"Really?" Draco asked, feigning stupidity. "I had no idea." He sighed loudly and said, "Honestly, Henry, don't you think we're being stupid and pathetic? The Dark Lord sent us here for a reason and after already failing our first mission; I want to actually do well on this one."

"So do I!" Harry said indignantly. What was _wrong_ with Draco?

"It sure seems like it," Draco said, rolling his eyes. He flicked his wand slightly and the Muffliato charm lifted. He turned away, but was shoved into a passing fourth year as someone crashed into him.

"Keep moving, Malfoy," Moody snarled, as he limped up the hallway.

Draco stared coldly after Moody and once he was out of earshot, turned to his cousin. "Get the ingredients, Henry," he said, his voice cold. "It's time we finished Moody and focus on what we were sent here to do."

* * *

Luckily enough, the following Saturday morning, Harry received a note from his mother. It had been dropped into his book bag during the morning hall traffic jams (yesterday, he believed) so he had no idea who it was from, but that didn't matter: he was thrilled to hear from his mother.

_Henry,_

_I apologize for having to run out so brusquely in Hogsmeade, but some things cannot be helped. I hope you liked your present; I thought immediately of you when I bought it._

_The Dark Lord does not wish for me to do this (and I have charmed this letter so that only you can read it) but I really wish that I could see you again, for I know, almost certainly, that Dumbledore won't let you and Draco return home for the holidays. _

_Can you sneak out of Hogwarts sometime in the near future? I am sure it wouldn't be hard for you, as you still have the Invisibility Cloak that was used in the Hogwarts Express attack and you are you, after all, dear._

_Reply with one of the school owls, and direct it to Narcissa's home. Charm the letter as I have._

_Say hello to Draco for me._

_B_

Perfect, Harry thought, smiling. He'd certainly be able to get of Hogwarts and he could ask Bellatrix to get some of the ingredients they needed.

After breakfast was over, he hurried up to the Owlery.

It was deserted, so he felt safe writing his note there.

_Mother, _

_I can get out of Hogwarts this coming Friday, after classes are done for the day. I'll meet you at the Hog's Head at six o'clock, but I'll be wearing the Cloak so make sure your disguise isn't that amazing; well, make it so at least__** I**_ _can recognize you._

_Oh, and I was wondering if you could get a few supplies for me: several jimson weeds and oleander plants, as well as some water hemlock. Can you also see if there are any dried leaves of the oleander plant? _

_See you soon. _

_H _

* * *

Harry was anxious the entire week for Friday to arrive. He hadn't told anyone about going to meet Bellatrix, except of course, Draco.

Something had been off with his cousin ever since Harry had gotten the Seeker position on the Gryffindor team and it had been slowly mounting. Draco was more distant with his cousin than ever before and Harry had no idea what he'd done wrong, although he suspected that it was entirely that Draco's old jealously and competitiveness was rearing its ugly head again.

When they were children, and especially when Harry had been chosen for Dark Arts lessons and Draco hadn't, Draco had become so obsessed with being better than Harry that he'd go to any length to do so.

Harry didn't like this one bit. Sure, competition between them was great and Harry was competitive too, but Draco was just getting ridiculous.

The next time they spoke, Draco just nodded and said next to nothing when Harry told him about Bellatrix's letter. He'd handed over the Invisibility Cloak and then stalked away.

Draco would still sit, reluctantly, with Harry during the classes they had together, but their conversations were limited. And, since they didn't have all the ingredients for the poison yet and could do almost nothing to start preparing for it, Draco preferred to spend his time cloistered up in the Slytherin dungeons with Daphne Greengrass, instead of spending time with Harry.

At first, Harry just assumed that it was because of Daphne that Draco was distant (were they even dating? Harry had no idea about that either), but as time went on it wasn't getting any better. Harry was forced to sit at the Gryffindor table for every single meal with Hermione (who, surprisingly, wasn't that much of an annoying braggart when you got to know her and someone you could have an intelligent conversation with), Longbottom (who Harry actually liked well enough, seeing as he was helping him in Herbology and vice versa with Potions. Harry completely understood Herbology now – it had just been the extreme simplicity of it that got him) and Weasley, (who, as a member of the Quidditch team, Harry had gotten to know quite well), as Draco made it clear that Harry was not welcome at the Slytherin table anymore.

Of the three Gryffindors, Weasley was the least friendly towards Harry, but that was no surprise and Harry honestly could care less. He needed to be friends with Longbottom, so he was happy about the progress with that, and Hermione always had to be kept close at bay, anyways.

Finally, Friday arrived and it was none too soon. Harry was extremely anxious to see his mother that evening, and it apparently showed.

"Are you all right?" Hermione asked, a little loudly over the chatter in the Great Hall at breakfast.

"Yeah," Harry said shortly. "I'm fine. What do we have on the schedule today?"

"Charms and History of Magic," Hermione said, "Then Herbology after lunch and then Potions."

Harry nodded curtly. Charms would be a pain – Professor Potter was the most annoying woman on the planet. History of Magic would be the longest it had been yet, as would Herbology. Potions would probably be the same as Charms.

It was basically as Harry had expected and when he thought back later on those classes, he only remembered staring at the clock.

When the final bell of the day rang, Harry had to resist running to Gryffindor Tower right away– he had to keep his cool, as well as his cover.

He dropped his bags off at the Tower and then hurried down to the Great Hall, eating a quick supper before returning to Gryffindor Tower. He made a point of calling out to Longbottom that he was off to bed earlier that evening.

Once he was upstairs in his dorm, he quickly put on his warmest cloak (it was getting rather cold on the Hogwarts grounds, as November had already come and gone). When he'd arrived at Hogwarts, he'd gotten a Gryffindor scarf and hat, but Harry still had yet to even unwrap those.

In the chest that Bellatrix had given him when they'd met at Hogsmeade, he'd gotten his own winter wear and so he quickly tied his scarf on and once he was ready, pulled out the Invisibility Cloak and threw it over himself.

Quietly, Harry opened the dorm room door and snuck down into the Common Room. It was getting rather crowded and so Harry was extra careful not to step on anyone's toes. He hovered near the portrait hole for a few minutes until a girl came in and opened it, so he was able to leave, slipping past the girl easily.

The hallways were quite busy, but it was very easy (for Harry) to sneak down to the Entrance Hall.

But suddenly, he skidded to a stop.

Standing just outside the Great Hall doors was Moody, talking to Professors Potter and Sprout.

Harry drew in a deep breath and stopped dead in his tracks. Could – could Moody's magic eye see through Invisibility Cloak?

Harry wasn't about to take that chance, so he quickly backtracked, until he was on the second floor, overlooking the Entrance Hall.

Moody, Potter and Sprout all spent a good few minutes talking – what on earth were they doing? – before Moody and Sprout headed into the Great Hall and Potter headed up the Marble stairs and past exactly where Harry was crouching.

Harry let out that deep breath that he was holding and then continued on his way to the Entrance Hall doors.

He'd heard earlier Filch muttering to himself about keeping the doors open later that evening than usual because the Hufflepuff Quidditch team (who Gryffindor was playing tomorrow in the match) were going to practice well into the night.

It couldn't have been more convenient.

Just by luck, someone dressed in Hufflepuff Quidditch robes came rushing by Harry and out the main doors, allowing him an easy escape to get out of the castle.

Once he was outside, it was just a breeze. Harry quickly made his way to the edge of the grounds and once he was free of the anti-Apparition wards, turned on the spot and promptly disappeared.

* * *

Bellatrix was anxious for Henry to arrive. She was once more disguised as the old Muggle woman and sitting anxiously in the Hog's Head. She hoped that Henry would recognize her, as she was wearing her usual black lace veil.

It was just reaching six o'clock and soon Bellatrix would begin to get angry. She tapped her fingers on the smooth surface of the table and looked around her. The bar was quite empty for a Friday night, but the cold weather was probably keeping people in. It was fairly crowded, though, with at least half the tables full.

Suddenly, the door opened, letting in a rush of cold air and little tiny snowflakes. Bellatrix glanced up, but saw nothing and her heart sunk.

The barman frowned at the door and stepped over to close it, securing it tightly with a snap.

A light touch grazed up against Bellatrix's left arm and she immediately tensed.

"Mother?" said a very familiar voice, in a quiet, questioning tone.

Bellatrix immediately relaxed. "Henry, is that you?"

"Yes," said the voice. "_Muffliato._" The voice paused and the chair to the left of Bellatrix moved just a fraction of an inch and so Bellatrix knew where Henry was.

"Are you Bellatrix Lestrange?"

For a fleeting moment, Bellatrix felt extremely offended that her son didn't know her immediately, but then felt pleased that he was smart enough to verify her identity.

"Yes," Bellatrix said. "I have one son named Henry, who was born on the 22nd of June, every few months I must perform a spell on him that keeps his eyesight working properly and my favourite colour is purple."

Thankfully, the Hog's Head saw so many weird people that no one even looked twice at Bellatrix muttering to herself in apparent silence.

The chair snorted. "All right, fine. And me?"

"Are you really Henry Lestrange?" Bellatrix asked promptly.

"Yes. I was born on June 22nd, my mother is Bellatrix, my father was Rodolphus, my cousin Draco calls me Harry, my wand is the core of a phoenix and I am currently attending Hogwarts."

Bellatrix smiled and then drew from her cloak a medium sized pouch and placed it on the table. Within seconds, the pouch disappeared, as Henry, still under his Invisibility Cloak, took it.

"What are those plants for?" Bellatrix asked.

"Just a school project," Henry said dismissively. "It's really nothing, Mother. Trust me."

Bellatrix frowned and her expression grew dark, but she said nothing – she knew Henry would say nothing more. "Tell me about yourself, then darling," she ordered. "How is the mission going?"

Henry didn't reply for a few seconds. "It's all right," he said, his voice dark, "He's not as stupid as the Dark Lord thinks, at least not with people. He talks to me, all right, but it's not like he would choose to hang out with me." Henry paused and then added, "He is helping me with Herbology, though."

Bellatrix almost felt a surge of rage about that. Her Henry was too smart to need anything from anyone else, let alone Longbottom. "You need help with something, Henry?" Bellatrix said, her voice tight.

"No," Henry said quickly. "But it gives him an excuse to talk to me and vice versa. Nonetheless, it's still hard. He's under Dumbledore's wing, obviously."

Bellatrix frowned. "That's unfortunate, very unfortunate." She paused, and suddenly she felt odd – as if her skin was changing.

"Mother," Henry said sharply. "The Polyjuice Potion."

Bellatrix swept her hand into her cloak and pulled out a vial of turquoise potion and quickly downed it. Her skin stopped tingling immediately and she quickly returned the vial to her pocket.

"Thank you, Henry, dear," she said, straightening her veil. "That reminds me, I need to do that spell on you to keep your eyesight proper – you don't mind, do you, Henry?"

Henry shook his head and Bellatrix drew her wand and whispered, "Point the wand at yourself, Henry."

She held it loosely in her hand and felt Henry move the wand slightly up and to the right. "_Dissimulo_."

Rippling air fired out of Bellatrix's wand and disappeared as they apparently hit Henry. "That always makes me feel weird," Henry said, sounding as if he was shaking off a creepy feeling.

"It's a necessary part of life, Henry," Bellatrix said. "When you return to our Manor, I'll have to teach it to you – you'll need to learn how to do that yourself one day." She then asked, "What has Dumbledore said to you?"

"Nothing in particular," Henry said – Bellatrix could almost see him shrugging. "He just told me that I had to get more 'involved' with the school community because I was being a twat to the teachers."

His mother snorted. "That sounds like you, Henry. What did the old fool make you do?"

"Join the Quidditch team," Henry said dully.

"Quidditch?" Bellatrix said sharply, her temper suddenly flaring beneath the surface. "That is a very bad idea, Henry. You are not at Hogwarts to play games, but to –"

"I know, Mother," Henry snapped. "It was either that or the _Gobstones _team." He sighed loudly and then said, "How is everything at home?"

Bellatrix knew what he meant – how were things with the Dark Lord. "Good," Bellatrix said carefully. "He is preoccupied these days with the Ministry –" Bellatrix leaned closer and dropped her voice, even though no one could hear them – "his informant in the Minister's office was discovered and sent to Azkaban."

Henry sucked in a deep breath. "I can just imagine his reaction to that." He paused and then asked, "Is everything all right, though? All the others – they're still undercover?"

Bellatrix nodded. "Yes, they are, and being much more careful now –"

Suddenly the bartender came towards the table, all the while digging his finger in his ear as if there was some sort of sound that he couldn't quite get rid of. The Muffliato spell only worked one way, so when he spoke to Bellatrix, she could hear him perfectly. "Do you want anything to drink, ma'am?"

Henry apparently lifted the spell wordlessly because when Bellatrix spoke, the bartender obviously heard her. "No," she said, coldly. "I'm fine."

The man nodded and turned to leave. The moment he was out of earshot, Henry said, "_Muffliato_," once more. "I have to get going soon," he said, his voice glum. "Otherwise I'll be locked out all night."

Bellatrix made a face, but then sighed. "You're right. I must be going soon as well ... the Dark Lord wants to have a meeting this evening at seven o'clock."

"Mum," Henry said, his voice a little alarmed. "It's already seven fifteen."

"What?" Bellatrix said, jumping up. "Seven – oh, Merlin, I've got to go! The Dark Lord – he'll be angry with me – can't have that –" She tightened her winter cloak's fastenings around her and straightened her veil again. "I'm sorry, Henry, I – I have to go. It was _lovely_ seeing you again – we'll talk again soon."

She turned sharply on her heel and headed out the door, leaving Henry sitting there invisible, more than a little shocked at how quickly his mother had just left him for Voldemort.

* * *

"Where were we supposed to meet her?" said Draco coldly, his voice ringing in the near silence of the halls.

"She said the second floor, near the girls' bathroom," Harry said curtly, his voice just as icy.

Harry and Draco had barely spoken in days and their conversations were short and curt. They were speaking today because Hermione had told Harry earlier that day that it was time for them to start brewing the potion – they had everything they needed.

It was December 22nd and everyone who was going home for Christmas had left, leaving the school oddly empty.

Harry and Draco had remained at the school – they couldn't very well go home, after all. Surprisingly, Hermione had also stayed.

"What the bloody hell does that mean?" Draco demanded. "By a bathroom?"

Harry just shrugged. "That's what she said."

They continued on for another floor in silence and when they finally reached the second floor, Hermione was standing near the bathrooms.

"Took you long enough," she said in greeting, turning and starting to go into the girls' bathroom behind her.

Draco and Harry exchanged a look. "Um, Granger? What are you doing? That's a girls' bathroom."

"I know," Hermione said. "But no one ever uses it – it's the best place for us to make this thing."

"Why does no one use it?" Harry asked suspiciously, as he followed Hermione into the bathroom. It was old, like most of Hogwarts' bathrooms, but Hermione was right – completely empty.

"Moaning Myrtle," said Hermione simply, sitting down at a cauldron that she'd placed on the floor.

"Moaning Myrtle?" Draco repeated, looking a little askance at sitting down on a bathroom floor.

"The ghost who haunts this bathroom," Hermione said matter-of-factly, taking out the cork of a small vial of blue liquid.

"Where is she?" Harry asked, slowly sitting down beside Hermione.

Hermione shrugged. "Not here right now. But, when she comes, she won't bother us. Trust me."

"Trust you? That's a risky thing to do," Draco said, finally taking a seat beside them on the floor.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, but said nothing about that. "Okay, so I've got all the ingredients here –" she gestured to a small chest where there were about ten different shaped vials and bottles inside – "What do you want to do first?"

Draco frowned. "Just put them all in and see what happens?"

"Yeah, that," Harry said, picking up a vial of the moonseed berries. He poured a few into his hand and then tossed them into the cauldron. Hermione ordered them after that to put on their gloves and, because it was probably wise to do that

The three of them continued putting all the ingredients in, Hermione writing down each of their steps and how many they put in each time. They finally added the white baneberry that they'd crushed into a fine juice, making the potion a slightly bubbling jet black.

Hermione waved her hand over the cauldron, wafting the smell towards her. She wrinkled her nose as it hit her and immediately slid back on the floor, coughing. "That is _bloody_ powerful!" she exclaimed.

Harry grinned. "Good. Bottle it up – we'll have to test it on something."

"I can do it," Draco said. "I'll do it tonight."

Hermione nodded and reached for the chest, pulling out an empty bottle with a blue stopper. She waved her wand at the bottle and said, "_Wingardium Leviosa._" The bottle rose and then Hermione controlled it to scoop down and fill up with the black potion. It popped itself shut and floated into Hermione's hand.

She handed it to Draco who slipped it into his pocket. Hermione took out a large jar and poured the rest of the poison into it, sealing the lid tightly. She put the jar back into the chest, summoning a small rope and tying the ingredients around it.

Harry waved his wand and the date appeared on the top of the lid. "We can't do much else today," Harry said.

The other two agreed and everyone departed, Draco taking with him the small vial of poison.

* * *

Harry didn't talk to Draco for two whole days and it was just on the morning of the third day that Draco even acknowledged his cousin. He'd thought that since they'd worked together on the poison, Draco might've been warmer towards Harry, but apparently not.

Hogwarts was still empty for break, but the three of them didn't eat together. Draco ate at the Slytherin table with the remainder of those and Hermione ate with a few Ravenclaw girls at their own table.

Draco and Harry had happened to be walking out of the Great Hall at the same time and Draco muttered, as he passed, "Get Granger and meet me in the bathroom in twenty minutes."

Harry nodded and cast a glance over his shoulder where Hermione still sat, just finishing her breakfast.

Draco walked away, but Harry lingered near the doorway and waited for Hermione to finish. It took five minutes, but once she had exited the Great Hall, he quickly got into step with her.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Draco wants us to meet him in the bathroom in fifteen minutes," Harry said.

Hermione's eyes looked nervously around her and then she nodded tightly. "Okay, I'll meet you there; I'll go get the chest with all the ingredients and stuff."

Harry nodded and walked with Hermione up to the second floor where she continued up the stairs and he departed down the corridors. He used the boys bathroom quickly and then headed to the girls' one and was soon joined by Draco.

"Is she coming?" he asked.

"Yeah," Harry said. "She's just going to get the potion stuff."

Draco nodded, but soon enough Hermione entered the room. "Hey," she said, hurrying over to their usual spot near the sinks and opening the chest up. "How did the poison test go?" she asked Draco.

"It didn't work," Draco said darkly. "The stupid chicken just squawked around and then suddenly sprouted another head."

Hermione threw her hand up to cover her mouth to muffle her laugh. "Another head?" she said.

Draco shot her a dark look and said, curtly, "Yes. I killed it."

Hermione's laugh cut short immediately. "What? Why?"

"A two headed chicken walking around is completely normal to you, Granger?" Draco asked coldly. "It had to be dealt with."

Hermione stared at Draco in horror, but Harry quickly interjected. "Okay, so that poison won't work," said Harry. "What should we try now?"

"Just take out one of the ingredients?" Draco suggested. "And see how that works?"

Harry and Hermione nodded and started to put in the ingredients again, this time leaving out the hyacinth all together.

When they were finished, the potion was an odd green colour – like a mixture of aquamarine and bright lime.

"That doesn't look very deadly," Harry said, smirking.

"Oh well," Hermione said, scooping some of the poison into a vial. She was about to hand it to Draco when she froze, her eyes lighting up.

"What?" Draco and Harry both asked sharply, looking immediately to the doorway but no one was there.

"It's just – I just had an idea ... what if we didn't do this poison as a liquid poison? A liquid poison is great, but what about something like a powder? It would be way easier to do that – just sprinkle it on whoever you're poisoning and then we don't have to sneak it into their drink."

Draco and Harry exchanged an impressed look. "Yeah, that might work... but let's just try this potion and see if this works," Draco said.

Hermione and Harry nodded and Harry opened his mouth to say something else when suddenly, a loud, high pitched shriek of laughter sounded from one of the toilet stalls, making all three of them jump at least a foot in the air.

"Who's there?" Draco shouted, pointing his wand at the toilet stalls.

Another giggle emerged from the stalls, making Harry get to his feet. He walked over extremely quietly, his wand pointed at the door.

A girl suddenly appeared in front of Harry, startling him and making him jump backwards. She was wearing round glasses and had dark hair tied in two pigtails. She was wearing an old Hogwarts uniform, the crest of Ravenclaw shining on her chest. She looked like a normal teen, except for the fact that she was a ghost.

"Hello," the girl said, wiggling her eyebrows.

Harry and Draco exchanged a look and Harry took a step backwards. "Who are you?" Draco demanded.

"I'm Myrtle," said the girl, floating closer towards Draco. "Who are you?"

"Uh, Draco?" Draco said, looking appalled.

Hermione coughed once to muffle a giggle and looked hurriedly away. Harry was grinning widely as well – he loved seeing Draco squirm.

Draco shot Hermione a dark look and then said, "Let's go."

"See you later!" Myrtle called out, as the three of them departed from the bathroom.

Once they were a few feet away, Hermione looked to Draco and said, smirking, "Looks like you have an admirer."

"Oh, shut up."

* * *

Christmas Day at Hogwarts was just like any other day. Harry, Hermione and Draco spent the day cloistered up in Myrtle's bathroom, working on their potion and trying to get it to solidify.

Draco had told them that the green potion that they'd tried earlier hadn't worked at all, just made the chicken start barking like a dog.

Dejected, when it came to be about five o'clock, Hermione packed everything up and returned it to Gryffindor Tower, while Harry and Draco headed down to the Great Hall for dinner.

Since there weren't that many people at Hogwarts for the holidays, the tables had been taken away and left with just one large table for the students and another for the teachers.

Harry and Draco took a seat together, Harry leaving a space for Hermione to sit when she arrived.

_Bellatrix pushed open the door to the dining room of Lestrange Manor and took her regular seat near the head of the table, casting a long look at the empty chair where Henry usually sat._

Hermione arrived at the table and within minutes, Professor Dumbledore clapped his hands and dozens of dishes of delicious food appeared on the tables.

_The house elves entered through the door leading from the kitchen, with steaming plates full of turkey and potatoes and stuffing._

Harry piled everything that he could reach onto his plate. He didn't want to admit it, but the food here tasted better than back at home at Lestrange Manor.

_Bellatrix waved her hand and the candles that sat around the room immediately lit up, their flame glittering prettily. _

Harry glanced up at the floating candles. Each of them had a string of garland wrapped around it, which, in Harry's opinion, made them look like stupid candy canes.

_Lestrange Manor was dark without the flames, without a decoration in the house. She never decorated for Christmas – that was silly and shallow. _

Harry finished his dinner within a few minutes and had to wait for everyone else to finish as well, before the dessert would appear.

_Once Bellatrix was finished her supper, the houseleves brought out beautiful cake, decorated with black chocolate and green icing. It was gorgeous._

The rest of the Hall finished their dinner in good time and the puddings appeared on the table. Cakes, cupcakes, tarts, pies ... everything Harry could possibly want.

_This was Henry's favourite cake, Bellatrix thought rather morosely, as she cut herself a piece. Dark chocolate with mint. She wondered if they had that at Hogwarts._

Harry scanned the table for a mint chocolate cake and finally spotted one near the other side of the table. He got to his feet and retrieved it, bringing it back to his place.

The cake was more bitter than the ones Harry had at home – but that was probably just his feeling at eating it.

_She finished her dessert and the houseleves whisked away her plate. She looked longingly at the seat where Henry should've been sitting. Her heart ached - she missed him so much._

Harry paused, his fork half way to his mouth. It had just hit him – Christmas just wasn't the same without his mother.

Next year, he would be sitting at the dining table in Lestrange Manor no matter what.

_Next year, Bellatrix thought, smiling sadly. Next year._

* * *

"Hermione," Harry said, his voice low, grasping her shoulder to get her attention. She jumped slightly and turned around to look at him.

It was the second weekend after Christmas break had ended and so the Gryffindor Common Room was crowded. It was a cold January Saturday evening, after curfew for the younger years.

Hermione wrenched her arm from Harry's grasp. "Yes?" she asked curtly. "What do you want?"

"Can you come to the library with me?"

"Now?" she asked, surprised.

Harry nodded.

She narrowed her eyes at him, but got to her feet nevertheless.

They exited the Gryffindor Common Room and headed out into the hallway.

"What are we looking up?" Hermione inquired, as they started towards the library.

"I'll tell you when we get there," Harry said in a dark voice.

They walked in silence the rest of the way and once they'd arrived at the library, and Hermione and Harry were sitting at their usual table, Harry leaned forward and whispered, "Remember when I told you about Horcruxes?"

Hermione sighed loudly. "I thought this might be it. Listen, Henry: I looked all over the library for any information about it, but there's nothing."

Harry was dejected. "Did you check the Restricted Section?"

Hermione hesitated. "No ... no, not yet. Henry ..." she paused again. "Do you have any idea what a Horcrux is?"

Harry didn't know how much Hermione knew, so he said, "Just a little."

"Really?" Hermione said, looking surprised. "What do you know?"

"Um ... well, apparently, it's some sort of way to split your soul –"

"Your soul?" she repeated sharply, looking alarmed.

"Well, yeah, and apparently that makes you immortal –" she opened her mouth alarmed, but Harry kept talking, "That's about all I got from the book in Dumbledore's office. I was hoping you could help me look up _how_ someone would –"

"How?" Hermione said, gaping at him, horrified. "You want to know _how _to make Horcrux? Why?"

"Just interested," Harry said quickly.

She still looked alarmed and said, "Well, if it's something like that, I don't have a doubt that it will be really dark and dangerous. I don't even want to _think_ what you would have to do to split your soul."

Harry thought back to the section in the book he had read.

_The one thing that man has always searched for is a solution to Death. A Horcrux is an object, either inanimate or animate, that contains a part, a fractured part, of the soul of the owner. Once the soul is encased in this object, the owner now is immortal until that Horcrux is destroyed. _

Hermione was right, this was very Dark Magic.

"I – I was going to ask Professor McGonagall for a note for the Restricted Section, but I don't know about that anymore," Hermione said, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, Henry, but I can't help you with this. I don't even know where to begin. I'm sorry."

Harry felt a surge of anger at Hermione's through and through goodness. Honestly, it wasn't like he was asking her to _help_ him make one ... he just wanted to know _how_ to.

Hermione got to her feet then, still looking apologetic and scared.

"Don't tell Draco, all right?" Harry said sharply, standing up to face her.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, but nodded slowly. "All right."

* * *

"Hand me the baneberry, please," Hermione asked, reaching out her hand.

Draco handed her the small white berries and Hermione dropped them into the slightly steaming cauldron in front of her. The cauldron let out a soft whistling sound, along with a puff of red smoke, and then started to smoke just faintly, although the smoke was still red-tinged.

Hermione peered into the cauldron and gasped. "Look!"

"What?" Draco asked, leaning forward.

"It's not a liquid anymore! It's like a ... mush, I suppose."

"Really?" Harry inquired, intrigued. He leaned forward as well and peered into the cauldron. The poison was a reddish mush

"Did you add everything?" Draco asked.

"I think so," Hermione said, looking over her list. "Baneberry, belladonna – wait, did you put the belladonna in?"

"No," Harry and Draco both said. "Did you?"

"No," Hermione said, thoughtfully. They all looked back to the poison. "Well, that must've done it," she said. "Add everything except the belladonna and the hyacinth and we've got a powdery poison."

"If it works," Draco said, darkly. "Let's leave it for a few minutes and see what happens."

The other two nodded and Hermione set about writing down the ingredients and amounts of each on a fresh piece of parchment.

Harry was ecstatic that they had done it and couldn't wait to poison Moody. He couldn't believe that they'd finally done it - Bellatrix would be so proud to know that Harry had made his very own poison.

After about thirty minutes, they checked on the poison again. It had turned into a jet black powder, very fine and thin.

Hermione refused to let them touch it – after all, she didn't know what it would do to anyone.

Since Draco wanted this whole poison making process to be finished A.S.A.P., he volunteered to take it down to the grounds and test it right away. He scooped some of it up and put it into a vial, calling, "I'll be right back," as he tucked the vial into his cloak and took out the Invisibility Cloak from his backpack and departed.

Once Draco was gone, Harry leaned back against the wall, his hands behind his head. "Phew," he said, "Finally, we're finished. What's that been – four months?"

Hermione didn't answer and Harry looked at her to see why not.

She was looking at his arm and Harry sharply remembered his Dark Mark. He quickly pulled down his sleeve, covering it. It had been stinging earlier that day, which meant the other Death Eaters were probably communicating with each other. The burn that meant the Dark Lord wanted the Death Eaters happened at least thrice weekly, but he'd told Harry and Draco just to ignore that – they couldn't very well leave now anyways.

They lapsed into silence and then Hermione asked, curiously, "Does it hurt?"

Harry shrugged. "Sometimes," he said vaguely. He was not allowed to speak to anyone who wasn't a Death Eater about how Voldemort controlled the Death Eaters with the Mark.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "I don't understand you," she said after a few moments of silence.

"Why?" Harry asked, surprised. "You've known us for almost five months now _and _you helped us make a poison. What on earth can't you believe?"

"That you're – you know! He's evil! Why the hell did you join him?"

"You've been blinded by Dumbledore, Hermione," Harry said, getting annoyed. "You believe that what he says is right, that that's this way to live. You've never considered that what the Dark Lord says is correct."

"Correct?" Hermione repeated, looking horrified. "How is killing Muggleborns and Muggles _the right thing_?"

"Muggles are inferior to us and Mudbloods have no place in our world," Harry said promptly. Both he and Draco had been trained that this was the answer since birth.

She looked disgusted. "Muggleborns have just as much right to learn magic as you, you know!"

"Oh yeah?" Harry snorted. "Name one Mudblood who deserves to know magic."

She stared at him coldly. "How about the one who's been helping you make this poison?" She paused and then said, loudly, "I'm Muggleborn and I'm not ashamed to say that."

Harry paled immediately and his mouth dropped open. Hermione made a disgusted sound in her throat.

"Oh, you're just _revolting_," Hermione said scathingly, jumping to her feet. She crossed her arms and stomped her foot. "Just because of who my parents are, you immediately think that I'm inferior to you."

Draco, who had just appeared in the doorway, looked quizzically at the scene. "What's happened?" His eyes rolled over Harry, who was still sitting on the floor next to the cauldron, and Hermione, who was standing there, looking furious, with her arms crossed.

Harry said nothing in response to his cousin; he was reeling inside. Hermione was a Mudblood? The girl he might –

He shook his head to clear that thought.

How on earth hadn't they known earlier? It was almost the end of the first semester, for Merlin's sake! Harry was flabbergasted into silence.

Finally, he was able to speak. "She's a Mudblood," Harry said, through tight lips.

Draco looked horrified. He drew his wand, pointing it at Hermione. "Why didn't you tell us that?" he demanded.

Hermione likewise drew her wand and pointed it at Draco. "Because I knew you would react like this," she hissed. "What does it matter anyways? Who cares if my parents weren't magical?"

"We do," Draco spat. "You're an outsider; you don't belong in our world!"

Sparks shot out of Hermione's wand, but she did nothing just stare at Draco with cold, angry eyes. She looked over at Harry for a few moments, then turned on her heel and left the bathroom, kicking the chest full of ingredients out of her way as she went.

"Well, you'll be happy to know that the poison works," Draco said, holding up the empty vial. "The chicken dropped dead almost immediately as I sprinkled it on it." He paused. "If you want to test it on a human, then it's up to you to find whoever it is and kill them without anyone finding out. I'm done with this poison." He tossed the vial to Harry and turned on his heel, leaving Harry alone in the bathroom.

Brilliant, Harry thought darkly. No Hermione, no Draco.

* * *

Hermione refused to even talk to Harry for a good two weeks – she returned to sitting by herself in classes and at mealtimes. She refused to acknowledge him at all.

But, now that the poison was finished and it was only a matter of time before they could kill Moody, Harry didn't feel _too_ bad. Since he and Longbottom got on rather well, he started talking more and more with the boy.

They still were continuing their tutoring lessons, but Harry no longer needed help with Herbology so it was just Neville who was getting help in Potions.

Neville obviously knew that something was off with Hermione, but he didn't mention anything about it.

One evening, about the end of March, as they worked over Neville's Potion essay, Harry asked, "Are you going home for Easter?"

"Yeah," Neville said, nodding. "It's only ten days, but I decided to do it. It's more fun than staying here and studying, anyways."

Harry nodded, a little disappointed that he was leaving. After all, a time when half the school was gone would've been perfect for Neville to have been taken away by Voldemort.

* * *

Hermione was one of the ones who left for Easter Break, but most everyone else stayed. The fifth years had quite a bit of homework, at least something due in each class. Harry (since he didn't have much else to do seeing as Hermione was gone and Draco had developed some sort of problem with him) had finished most of the homework within the first three days of the ten day break.

Once that was finished, he spent a few hours each day in Myrtle's bathroom, testing Voldemort's spell on the potion and then delivering it to the animals out in the grounds. Testing it on animals wasn't the best idea; Draco was right – he needed to make sure that the poison actually worked on a human.

Harry had spent hours pondering over who he was going to poison. Murdering a student was out of the question – a kid ending up sick and dead "under mysterious circumstances" with two Death Eater kids at Hogwarts? Yeah right. Even if Dumbledore believed their pathetic tale about turning from the Dark side, Harry knew enough about the Ministry of Magic to know that they would immediately suspect Harry and Draco. Even if they couldn't prove it, the damage would be done – Harry's 'spotless' reputation ruined and Neville would become suspicious.

It was something Harry couldn't afford to do it.

But, nevertheless, Draco was correct. Testing the poison on animals was fine and all, but it was all for nothing if it didn't work on a human.

The only option Harry saw was a villager from Hogsmeade. That was going to be easier by far, but still tricky. Harry had to time everything perfectly – make sure that he had an alibi for the three days after the murder and make sure that Draco did too.

That shouldn't be too hard – Draco was joined at the hip with his Slytherin friends and Harry could just spend the evenings working with Neville on homework.

Problem solved.

So, for now, animals would have to do. It was going rather well already – one of the animals hadn't reacted at all to the poison, but when Harry came back to check on it the next day, it was dead.

A day was good, but three would be even better. The spell had to be stronger, especially if he was going to test this on a human.

Other than the poison, there really wasn't much to do. The Horcrux research had come to a grinding halt without Hermione. There wasn't even a point in looking around the library when Harry had no idea what he was even looking for.

So, with all the stress of the poison, befriending Neville and trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with Draco, he'd taken up flying around the Quidditch Pitch to clear his mind.

The Quidditch match against Hufflepuff had gone rather well, and, even though Harry had gotten the Snitch, the Hufflepuff Chasers were too good and had scored too many times on Ron Weasley to get themselves the win.

No one at all blamed Harry (in fact, the match seemed to renew everyone's new found admiration of him) and everyone had grumbled at Ron for a few days, but soon got over it.

Gryffindor wasn't out of the Quidditch Cup match yet, but Slytherin was. They'd lost to Ravenclaw and if Gryffindor lost to Ravenclaw as well, after Easter break, then they'd be out too. Hufflepuff was guaranteed a spot in the final match, but it was either Gryffindor or Ravenclaw – the school seemed to be split. The Hufflepuffs wanted Gryffindor in the final because they'd already beaten them once and it would be easier to beat them again than Ravenclaw. The Slytherins, however, wanted Ravenclaw in, even if that House had beaten them.

It was all very odd, Harry thought. Everything to do with Houses seemed so important to the students – the House Cup Tournament and the Quidditch Cup were of course always competitions, but even just in the classroom whoever answered a question correctly and got points for their House always received dark glares in return from the other House.

Harry thought it was kind of hilarious. These four Houses were supposed to supply the Light side with fighters, but they couldn't stop fighting amongst themselves. There were the two main rivalries – Hufflepuff vs. Ravenclaw and Gryffindor vs. Slytherin, but when it came to a House that stood out among the rest for hatred, it was definitely the Slytherins.

In all reality, it was no wonder that the Slytherins seemed to have a tendency to join Voldemort. Going to school with the same people for seven years who hated your house and then suddenly you're supposed to work with them to defeat this evil guy who himself was a Slytherin? Yeah right.

No one else seemed to understand this, but it was completely obvious to Harry. Why join the side that you had nothing in common with?

* * *

When everyone returned from Easter break, they were all hammered with huge tests, the likes of which the third year Gryffindors had never seen before.

Jason and Melinda had been up very late studying for a huge Transfiguration test and were starving.

So, they decided that it was time to go to the kitchens to get some food so that they didn't die of starvation.

Having just left the Common Room, they were currently on the seventh floor, huddled together under the Invisibility Cloak. In his hands, Jason was holding a very peculiar map, illuminated by Melinda's wand

This map, the Marauder's Map, was magical; enchanted to show everything about Hogwarts and was made by Jason's own father. Sirius and Remus had made it as well. Another of their friends, Peter something, had also helped, but neither of the three other Marauders ever spoke about Peter.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," Jason said, tapping the map with his wand. Ink immediately sprung up from the wand tip, black lines scrawling over the parchment and forming into a map of the castle, complete with little dots with labelled names all over it.

They made it all the way to the kitchens and the eager house elves just passed off several delicious treats.

Jason glanced down at the Map as they were leaving and a dot that was heading towards the Gryffindor Common Room got his attention. It was late and so seeing someone moving about other than them caught his attention immediately. He just skimmed the name, but then felt as if he'd been electrocuted. He started and then peered closer, trying to read it correctly.

Harry Potter?

* * *

A/N: Uh oh! Henry's in trouble!

Please Review!


	15. Murderer

A/N: Sorry about the long update – exam season, you know how it is and if there are any mistakes, I'm sorry about them! I've been writing and studying at the same time! But, this is the longest chapter yet, so that'll make up for the long break, right?

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to the wonderful JK Rowling.

**Chapter Fifteen – Murderer**

Jason stopped dead in his tracks, almost making Melinda crash into him.

"What is it?" Melinda asked in a whisper, sounding alarmed. "Jason?"

"What? Oh, nothing, Mel," Jason said vaguely.

Harry Potter. Potter...hmm.

Jason knew of no other Potters. Lily and James had told him repeatedly that there were no other Potters alive, at least any of their relatives. James's parents had died long before Jason had been born. James had been an only child with only maternal cousins and they carried a different last name.

"Harry Potter," Jason muttered, tracing the dot with his finger.

"What?" Melinda said. She'd been peering around the corner and hadn't heard what Jason had said.

Jason shook his head. "Nothing. Come on; let's get back to the Common Room."

Melinda nodded and the two of them made their way to the Tower in silence, as Jason's mind was reeling.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he thought he recognized the name. He thought that someone had said in passing once or twice, but he'd never really focused on it before.

His frown deepened and he looked back at the Map, but to his dismay, Harry Potter had disappeared.

That was weird, Jason thought, flipping another section of the Map open, as he looked around for the name, but it was gone, probably lost in another section of the gigantic Map. After all, there were so many secret passageways and Jason could only look at certain sections of the map at a time.

"Is someone coming?" Melinda asked, looking as Jason searched through the Map.

"No – no it's just –" he shook his head and then said, "No, we're fine. Come on, let's just go."

* * *

Shielded by his Invisibility Cloak, Harry made his way back from the Slytherin Common Room after meeting with Draco.

Harry had told Draco that Harry had gotten the poison to activate after three days in a small animal and was going to take the poison down to Hogsmeade to find someone to test it on there. He had, slyly, suggested that his cousin come along, but Draco was clever enough to see what his cousin was doing.

He had shut down that quick enough, telling Harry that he was on his own with this. Draco refused to even talk about poisoning Moody anymore – he just wanted to kidnap Neville and be done with Hogwarts.

They'd agreed that Harry should be the one to talk to Neville the most as it was obvious that Longbottom, as a Gryffindor would be wary of Draco trying to being friendly.

Draco was pissing Harry off. If he wanted Harry to be closer friends with Neville, then Draco should be the one doing all this poison stuff and freeing up Harry's spare time.

But, no.

Fine, whatever. Harry was fine with doing everything – and getting all the credit. If that was the way Draco wanted to play, then so be it.

Harry arrived at Gryffindor Tower and headed up to his dorm without a problem. He climbed into his warm bed and thought briefly about the poisoning.

The Hogsmeade poisoning would be simple – sprinkle the poisonous powder on an unsuspecting villager as they walked by (Harry, would of course, note their identity) and then return in a few days to see the state of the person.

Other than that, they'd planned out the attack on Moody already as well. It was a similar plan – the poison would be sprinkled in Moody's favourite book, the one he loved to slam on the desk when he was angry. This way, the poison would easily fly from the book and into his eyes and mouth: the best places for the poison to activate.

Harry was anxious to kill Moody and be done with it, but they couldn't until the end of the year.

Thankfully, it was already the beginning of May and the crunch of exams was beginning. The fifth and seventh years had the most work, writing their O.W.L's and N.E.W.T's, respectively.

They'd written a practice test in Transfiguration already and it was ridiculously easy. Harry had scored a 98 on the test and if that was a practice test, then the real thing was going to be a piece of Cauldron Cake.

The only thing that worried Harry about writing these tests meant that he and Draco had been at Hogwarts for nearly a whole school year.

Voldemort wasn't known for being patient, but Harry had gotten the impression from the Dark Lord that he just wanted Longbottom to trust Draco and Harry, no matter how long it took. Of course, the time frame had to be in reason and Harry hoped that one year of school counted as reasonable.

* * *

When Jason returned to his dormitory, he once more scanned the map, but couldn't locate Harry Potter again. He had scanned all possible pathways away from the Slytherin Common Room, but couldn't find him.

Exhausted and dejected, he quickly ate his snack and then fell into bed, just managing to tap the Map and say "mischief managed" before he was out like a light.

Jason woke the next morning, but, as it was morning and not night, he thought little of the name on the Map. After all, it had been late, he'd probably imagined it and besides, he realized with a start, he had more important things to worry about today. Namely, a huge Potions test that he had forgotten about.

Well damn.

He jumped out of bed and quickly dressed, throwing on random clothes. He was so distracted, he tried to stuff his shirt onto his foot as a sock, but once he realized, quickly righted himself and ran down to the Common Room.

It was still about an hour before everyone was up and so the Common Room was mostly empty, except for a few people who were early risers.

Jason pulled out his Potions and started to review all of the things he needed to know, which was everything.

* * *

Throughout all of Harry's classes, he now sat with Neville or the nearest he could to the Light side's hero. Now that he was actually getting to know Neville beside the Potions tutoring , he found the boy a little dull, but not the complete moron that the Dark Lord thought he was.

They were currently walking to Defence together with Weasley trailing along as well. They'd just finished Herbology outside and the Hogwarts grounds were just starting to get green and pretty again.

They were among the last to arrive and almost immediately, Moody started the class, slamming down his favourite book (but soon to be not so loved, Harry thought smugly) and getting the class's attention.

Moody didn't seem worried at all about teaching Bellatrix's child anymore. He still shot Harry odd looks every now and again, but mostly ignored him. When Moody wanted someone to demonstrate a curse on or something, Harry most always the one he chose. However, Harry preferred that to what some of the other teachers did – Professor Potter seemed to think that drawing Harry into the class would make him more likable (not that he needed it after the Quidditch game) and Snape loved to pick on Harry, making snide little comments about Bellatrix or Rodolphus whenever he could. Harry had been able to hold his temper, for the most part. He was used to people talking about Bellatrix, but Rodolphus had been dead for so long that Harry felt deeply offended when anyone insulted his father.

There had been one time, which earned Harry two detentions, which had been particularly nasty. Snape had said something offhand about 'what a pity it was that your father wasn't around to raise you – killed while trying to run away, wasn't he? What a coward.'

Harry didn't know much about his father. Bellatrix didn't talk about him much, neither did Rabastan and it was rare that Rodolphus's portrait in Lestrange Manor would speak about himself – he often asked questions about Harry and how he was doing.

Harry did know that Rodolphus had been murdered by several Aurors on a raid when he was just a year old and Harry thought that he could faintly remember a dark haired man holding him and laughing.

It was because of his father's murder that Harry felt so strongly about the Dark Lord's 'cause'. The Light Side's callous murder of Rodolphus had left Harry to be raised without a father. His two uncles, Lucius and Rabastan were fine, but they weren't the same as having a real dad.

Besides, Lucius was more concerned with his own son and Rabastan with fighting for Voldemort.

Harry shook his head to clear his thoughts and tried to focus on what was going on around him. He was sitting in Defence class and today, they were learning the Stinging Hex ... oh dear. Harry had learned that when he was nine and had been taught a more powerful version by Voldemort himself in their Dark Arts lessons.

"All right, the incantation is Acies – say it with me now –"

"Acies," recited the class; Harry just rolled his eyes.

"Very good – make sure you pronounce that clearly. Now, who wants to demonstrate this one?"

Hermione shot her hand up in the air, as expected. "All right, let's go, Granger. Weasley, get up, you'll be her target."

Harry grinned at the expression on Ron's face as he stared back at Moody – for once Harry wasn't the one Moody had chosen.

"Um, actually –" Weasley started.

"Let's go!" Moody roared, making half of the class jump. Ron hurriedly got to his feet, to avoid another shout from Moody, and turned to face Hermione.

"All right," Moody said, pacing the back of the classroom. "Now, since this is your first time casting the hex, I'm sure nothing more than little zap, if that, will occur. Now, begin."

They both drew their wands and bowed, as was common in duels at Hogwarts. Hermione cleared her throat and said, "_Acies_."

The spell hit Ron and made him stumble backwards and singed a small hole in his shirt. "Ouch!" he exclaimed, poking at the hole.

Moody rolled his eyes at Ron and said to Hermione, "Good, Granger. Now, when you try it this time, focus your eyes on where you want to hit and try to urge your magic to hit that spot."

"Okay," said Hermione. She looked at Ron and slightly narrowed her eyes. "_Acies_."

This time the spell hit Ron a little harder, but only singed a slightly larger hole.

"Brilliant," Moody said. "Ten points to Gryffindor."

Hermione flushed and, at Moody's gesture, returned to her seat. Moody had them all take notes on the spell for the rest of the class, as well as on the Cutting Hex which Moody promised they'd get time to practice in the next lesson.

The bell rang and everyone hurriedly gathered their belongings and headed out of the classroom, off to lunch.

Harry lingered just a moment, pretending to have knocked his ink well over. He wanted to see where Moody stored his book.

He just placed it on his desk at the front of the class carelessly and growled, "Move along, Lestrange," when he still saw Harry in the room.

Harry gathered his things quickly and departed, smirking slightly. Moody had no idea.

* * *

May the 2nd was just another regular day of school – Harry attended class, ate dinner and did his homework.

But, once everyone else had gone to bed, Harry snuck back down from the dorm, covered in his Invisibility Cloak, and made it down to the Entrance Hall.

The doors leading outside were locked, of course, but that really didn't stop Harry. Alohomora wouldn't work on these doors, but he had his own spell – one that Bellatrix had taught him just months before he and Draco were captured.

"_Obfirmo_," he whispered. A small jet of gold stars shot out of the wand, hitting the huge door handles. The door let out a groan, but they slowly eased open, just enough for Harry to sneak through.

Dumbledore's wards were strong, yes, and the Obfirmo spell wouldn't work from the outside, but from the inside, it was a great tool. Besides, these were just the doors to the school – the extremely powerful wards were on the gates protecting the border of the grounds.

But, it really wasn't that hard to get through the gates. They recognized Harry as a student and not as a threat and so allowed him to pass easily through, although it usually did take some coaxing for it to work.

The walk to Hogsmeade was rather long, and as it was a chilly walk, once Harry was out of Hogwarts's reach, he turned sharply on his heel, Disapparating.

He landed with a loud _thud_ but didn't even stumble – his Cloak didn't even slip. He quickly patted his pocket, making sure the vial was still there. Thankfully it was and so Harry was able to look around him and get his bearings.

He was on an empty street of Hogsmeade, one he didn't recognize without the shops illuminated.

Starting to walk, Harry realized that the streets of Hogsmeade were completely empty – Harry didn't see one person out and about. He briefly thought that he maybe should've come down to the village before one in the morning, but that couldn't be helped now.

He started to walk down the streets, just to look for someone he could sprinkle the poison on when he rounded a corner and the bright light of a building burned his eyes.

_The Three Broomsticks_ was still open, a faint bittersweet tone of music playing from inside. The sign outside read 'Closed' but Harry could see that the barmaid, Madam Rosmerta, was chatting to a middle aged blonde woman, sitting at a bar stool. They looked like they must've been friends, because they were both laughing and having a good time and it wasn't the usual bartender/customer banter.

As Harry watched, the blond woman gave Rosmerta a hug and got to her feet, waving as she headed towards the door.

"I'll see you tomorrow!" Rosmerta called, as the woman opened the door. "We really can't keep up with all of this late night gossip, Betty!"

"But it's so much fun!" the woman, Betty, called back, waving once more as she headed into the street. "See you, Rose!"

Rosmerta suddenly appeared outside on the sidewalk, very close to where Harry was standing – he took an automatic step backwards.

"Betty, I don't think it's a good idea to walk home this late. Why don't you just Apparate?" Rosmerta pleaded, her voice quivering slightly with fear.

Betty wrinkled her nose. "It'll be fine, Rose. Please. If you want, I'll Floo you when I get home."

Rosmerta smiled slightly. "All right, go on." They embraced and then Betty waved, heading down the street, whistling slightly to the tune of the music.

Perfect, Harry thought, smirking to himself.

Rosmerta headed back into her shop once she saw Betty round the corner and once she was gone, Harry quickly followed Betty. He had just rounded the corner when the lights from _The Three Broomsticks_ went out like a candle and the streets were bathed in darkness.

Betty, who was only a few feet in front of Harry, clicked her tongue and drew her wand. "_Lumos_," she said, her wand tip lighting up.

Harry followed her for a few more blocks before she started to slow down – she was nearing the residential part of Hogsmeade village.

Now or never, Harry thought, drawing the vial from his pocket. You could barely see it in this light, but Harry knew that it was a black powder, just slightly solid. It kind of looked like ashes from a fire.

Harry hurried to catch up to Betty. She had come to a stop in front of a quaint little house with a sign that read "Abbotts' Abode". She was still slightly whistling to herself, the fool.

Harry cautiously passed her and stuck his hand over the white fence, checking for a ward. There was none.

Grinning at his good fortune, Harry turned sharply on his heel, disappearing from the street and then reappearing on the porch. Betty was just unlocking the front gate and heading up the pathway.

Harry drew the vial from his pocket, uncorking it with an audible _pop_.

That caught Betty's attention; she looked up sharply and stopped on the path. "Who's there?" she called out, pointing her wand at the house.

The Invisibility Cloak protected him from sight, but he could still be heard. He tried not to move, lest the porch creak.

Betty narrowed her eyes at the house, but then shrugged. She approached the porch, fumbling with a large iron key in her hands. Harry waved his wand at the vial.

The poison flew from the tip, Harry guiding it over to the woman. It hit her face, making her splutter and wave her hands in alarm.

"Dust!" she exclaimed, swatting at her face. "I must speak to Paul about the state of this house ... honestly; the man cares more about how England is doing in Quidditch than our own home!"

She opened the door, still coughing slightly and shut it behind her.

His deed done, Harry slipped the vial into his cloak pocket and turned on his heel, returning to the distant castle.

* * *

It was two in the morning and Jason was still awake. He couldn't sleep – he was worried about his exams coming up.

There was so much to do, to learn. He didn't really pay attention in class during the year (he should really start doing that) and now he was paying the price.

Unable to sleep, Jason leaned over and grabbed the Marauder's Map from his bedside table, along with his wand.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," he whispered, tapping the map.

Inky lines sprouted from his wand, creating a web that formed into the image of Hogwarts castle.

As he looked at the black dots with their little attached names, he remembered, with a jolt, the name Harry Potter.

What a moron he was! How could he have forgotten so easily? A Potter he had never heard of, especially within the walls of Hogwarts? What was wrong with him?

He felt like jumping out of bed right now and going to ask Lily who Harry Potter was, but then he thought better of it. First, it was two in the morning and she would not appreciate that. Second, it was exam time and Lily was looking extremely harried and stressed lately. He knew his mother from the two years before – she was busy and rushed during the last month of school and barely had time to eat, let alone talk to anyone.

He could always ask his dad, but for some strange reason, he felt like this was a topic that couldn't be discussed in a letter.

Well, Jason thought, a little dejectedly, summer wasn't that far away.

To take his mind off of that train of thought, he decided to look throughout the Map to see if there was anyone out of bed that he could possibly get up and talk to.

He was looking around the sixth floor when a name caught his eye.

Jason almost fell out of his bed.

Harry Potter! Coming this way!

He scrambled to his feet, grabbing his wand and stuffing his feet into his shoes. The icy leather alerted his senses and he quickly threw on a cloak, stumbling in the darkness out of the dorm.

He didn't have to ask Lily or James – he could find out who Harry Potter was for himself!

* * *

Harry had made it all the way from Hogsmeade and back to the school when he ran into trouble on the sixth floor corridor.

Jason Potter, the moron, was standing near the staircase that led to the seventh floor, one of his feet tottering on the stairs.

Harry paused as he saw the boy. What on earth was Potter doing up at this hour?

Oh, Harry knew that answer. Being an annoying twit.

He was holding some sort of parchment in his hand and was staring at it.

"Right in front of me," he muttered, looking up in confusion. "_Lumos_," he said, illuminating the small corridor.

He took a step towards Harry, but Harry didn't move. Potter couldn't see him.

"Harry Potter?" Jason called out, a little quizzically.

What was he on about?

"Harry Potter?" Potter repeated, more determined this time. He looked down at the parchment and then back up. "You're right in front of me! I know you are!"

Well, obviously, he'd gone round the bend – looking around Hogwarts Castle in the middle of the night for his long dead brother.

Idiot.

Harry took a step towards Jason took a step backwards, startling Harry. Did – did he know that he was there?

"Who are you?" Potter asked now.

Well, obviously not Harry Potter, Henry thought, rolling his eyes at the stupidity of the boy. He took another step towards the boy, faster now. As he passed him, he flicked his wand slightly and sent the parchment in the boy's hands peeling across to the other side of the corridor.

"Hey!" Potter shouted, whirling around.

Harry took the time that it took Potter to retrieve the parchment to hurry up the flight of stairs and onto the seventh floor.

The Gryffindor Common Room was at the end of the hall and Harry reached it in no time. "Buttercup," he said.

"Aren't you sweet?" the Fat Lady cooed, swinging open and letting him in.

The portrait hole swung shut behind him and Harry was alone in the Common Room, but he dared not take off the Cloak. He made it up to his dormitory and fell into his bed, thinking, satisfied, of his mission to Hogsmeade.

* * *

By the time Jason had retrieved the Map, it had wiped itself clean, probably due to one of Lupin's many protection charms on it.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," Jason said, hurriedly, shaking the Map due to his anxiety.

His hands were shaking in fear – Harry Potter, whoever the hell he was, had knocked the Map out of Jason's hands, but had been invisible the whole time.

Perhaps Harry Potter was a ghost, Jason thought, as he waited impatiently for the Map to draw itself. That would make the most sense, after all – the reason that Lily and James had never mentioned it was because, simply, Harry Potter was a long dead relative who haunted the Hogwarts castle.

Finally, the Map finished drawing itself, but by then the name Harry Potter had disappeared completely from the Map.

Completely dejected and more than a bit freaked out, Jason folded the Map into his pocket and begrudgingly made his way back to Gryffindor Tower.

* * *

As it turned out, Harry didn't even have to go back to Hogsmeade to see if the poison had worked.

He'd completely forgotten that there was an Abbott at Hogwarts, one in fact in his year. Hannah Abbott had been wailing and crying heavily at the Hufflepuff table four days after Harry's trip to Hogsmeade. Apparently the blond woman had been her mother.

Harry felt no remorse; why should he?

He walked towards the Gryffindor Table, grabbing a seat next to Neville. Longbottom, Weasley and Granger were all looking at the Hufflepuff tables with sad expressions.

"Hey, guys," Harry said, sitting down. He decided to feign stupidity. "What's happened?"

"It's Hannah's mother," Ron said darkly. "They found her dead this morning."

"What?" Harry asked, sharply, playing the part. "How did she die?"

Ron shrugged. "I dunno."

Neville got to his feet. "I'll be right back." He walked to the Hufflepuff table, disappearing through the crowd of comforting students.

Harry's conversation between Ron and Hermione didn't take off and when Neville returned to the table a few minutes later, he quickly asked, "What did she say?"

"She said that her father couldn't wake her mother up this morning and that when he called the Healers and they came, they said that she was dead."

Hermione inhaled. "Does she know what happened?"

Neville shrugged sadly. "No, Hannah didn't, but she said that her father said that her mother had been coughing badly and been complaining of a headache and all sorts of things like that."

"Do they suspect any foul play?" Ron asked, curiously.

"Not that I know of," Neville explained. "Hannah said that the symptoms didn't match any known spell or poison out there to cause this."

At this, Hermione's head snapped up and she looked directly at Harry. He looked innocently back at her, although he couldn't help a small twinkle glow in his eyes.

"E-excuse me," Hermione said, suddenly, her voice quivering. "I – I'll see you in class."

Ron and Neville exchanged bewildered looks as Hermione hurried from the hall, stopping on her way to give Hannah's younger sister at the Ravenclaw table a fierce hug.

"What's her problem?" Ron asked.

"Haven't the slightest clue," Harry said, breezily, twirling a fork in his fingers.

* * *

When the first of June arrived, so did Harry's first O.W.L test: Theory of Charms.

The tests were held in the Great Hall in complete silence; only the scraping of quills on the parchment.

As it was alphabetical, Harry was sitting just in front of Neville and just behind the blond girl Draco liked. Daphne or something. She kept fiddling with her hair and it was incredibly distracting.

A few seats in front of her was Hermione Granger. She was hunched over her paper and scribbling like a madwoman.

Harry had finished his test within the first hour of the allotted two hours and was waiting impatiently for the hour and a half mark so he could leave.

He chanced a glance behind him to where Draco was writing. Draco looked like he was finished as well, because he was tapping his quill on the table and looking up at the bright blue ceiling.

Finally a loud bell tolled at the front of the room, making at least half of the kids jump.

"If you are finished your exam, raise your hand and one of the instructors will come by to collect it," Professor Potter called from the front of the Great Hall.

Harry raised his hand and she came over to him, collecting his parchment and quills.

"Did all right?" she asked, as Harry stood.

He shrugged. "Yeah, I suppose." He turned and walked out of the hall, and joined Draco outside.

"That was easy," Draco said as a greeting. "Ridiculously easy."

Harry nodded. "I probably got a hundred."

"Same here."

Daphne exited the Great Hall then and spotted Draco. She approached them and Draco said, "I'll see you later, Henry," before walking off with her.

Harry headed up to the Gryffindor Common Room to wait for Neville so they could review some more. Fun, fun, fun.

* * *

The afternoon of the last O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. test saw Dumbledore sitting in his office and reading a letter he'd received from Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Kingsley had been the ninth person that Dumbledore had asked to take Henry Lestrange and Draco Malfoy for the summer and there was now no other option.

A knock interrupted his thoughts and he looked up at the door. "Come in."

Lily Potter pushed open the door and entered, looking a little confused. "Yes, Albus?"

"Have a seat, Lily," Dumbledore offered, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk. She sat, looking suspicious.

Dumbledore took a deep breath and explained his problem. As he was talking, Lily's face kept getting more and more shocked.

"You want me to take Henry and Draco to spend the summer at my house?" Lily repeated, sounding shocked. "_What_?"

Dumbledore just stared at Lily with his blue eyes. "It is the only way to keep them safe, Lily," he said earnestly.

"But – but isn't there anyone else?" she asked, pleadingly.

"No," Dumbledore said, shaking his head. "You are my last resort, Lily. I've asked many other people, but they are unable to do it."

"Why not?" she demanded.

"Alastor flat out refused," Dumbledore admitted, "Sirius and Severus, as well. Remus had a good excuse – the moon – and Kingsley and a few others are just too busy with the Order of the Phoenix and their jobs. You are the only choice."

"But, James and I are busy with the Order!" Lily protested. "And James is working full time with the Auror office too!"

"Yes, but you two are never sent on a mission at the same time because of Jason," Dumbledore reasoned.

"Albus," Lily said, despairingly, "Henry _Lestrange_ ..."

"That is why you are perfect, Lily," Dumbledore said. "Bellatrix and Voldemort will never suspect that the boys will be spending the summer with _you_."

Lily looked unhappy. "But, Albus ..."

"Lily, please. You are my only choice. Please. Besides, Henry's father and James were cousins, weren't they?"

"Distantly, yes, but –"

"Then, Henry is technically family. I cannot split Henry from Draco because they would simply go and find each other. If you do not take them, I don't know what I will do with them."

Lily didn't even suggest them staying at the castle over the summer – only Filch stayed and it was a well known fact that he couldn't stand either of the two boys and if those two were left here for two months ... well, Lily wasn't sure there'd be a castle to return to.

She was silent for a good few minutes and then said, reluctantly, "Fine. But I'll have to talk to James about it – he might not be so keen on the idea."

"Of course," Dumbledore said graciously, nodding. "But, do _try_, Lily."

"I will," she said, glumly. She got to her feet and headed to the door.

Dumbledore smiled, satisfied, as the door closed behind her. He should've felt guilty for manipulating Lily into doing this, but as he was Dumbledore, he didn't.

* * *

The evening after their last exam, while everyone was either eating dinner or outside, Harry and Draco were on the first floor, hidden under the Invisibility Cloak and clutching the vial of poison. It was now a thin, jet black powder and looked like little flakes of that carbon stuff Muggles cleaned their water with.

Moody's classroom wasn't locked, but then again, it never was. Harry eased open the door and peered inside, making sure no one was in there. Seeing that the coast was clear, they both entered and took off the Invisibility Cloak.

"_Colloportus_," Draco said, pointing his wand at the door. A strange force field enlightened the door and then faded away.

"You find the book," Harry said, striding towards Moody's desk. "I'll get the poison all ready."

Draco nodded and strode behind Moody's desk and pulled out the book, placing it heavily on the desk.

"_Absengo_," Harry murmured, pointing his wand at the vial. He had made a whole new batch just for Moody and this new one looked, if possible, deadlier than the one that had killed Betty Abbott. Once he said the spell, it glowed a bright white and then faded, until it was just the black powder again.

"You're sure this works?" Draco asked, peering at the vial in Harry's hands.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I tried it – trust me." He looked down to the book in Draco's hands. Harry had never seen the title before, but he smirked when he read it: _A Guide to Defending Yourself against All Dark Arts and Magic_.

He tipped the vial over Moody's favourite book, tapping the vial to get the poison all over. It seemed to spread itself out over the book, all on its own.

Once it was finished, Harry and Draco stared at each other – they couldn't believe it had been that easy.

Harry bottled the empty vial and put in his pocket. "Let's go," he said, turning to leave.

Draco followed him out, unlocking the door as they went. They paused at the door, putting the Invisibility Cloak on again.

Once they had rounded the corner, they took it off and Harry stuffed it into his bag. They headed down to the Great Hall for dinner as if nothing had happened.

* * *

Once supper was finished, they headed out of the Great Hall and were about to separate, when a sharp voice called out to them.

"Lestrange, Malfoy," said Professor McGonagall. Harry and Draco both froze and turned to face her. "Follow me," she said sternly. "Professor Dumbledore would like a word with you."

Harry and Draco exchanged a look; had someone seen them poison Moody?

McGonagall said nothing as she led them towards Dumbledore's office. "Lemon drops," she said, making the stone gargoyle admit them. "In you go," she said, sternly.

They exchanged another look, and then climbed up a spiral staircase, reaching a large door.

Draco knocked briefly and then pushed it open.

"Ah, Henry, Draco," Dumbledore said, sitting at his desk. Harry and Draco looked around, more than a little nervous. "Please sit.'

They did so and stared at him expectantly.

He folded his hands on the desk, interlocking his fingers. "As you remember, at the beginning of the year, you came to Hogwarts seeking asylum."

"Yes," Harry said slowly.

"And I promised that to you. But, as the year is coming to a close and summer is approaching, I have had to make arrangements for your safety during the two month holiday."

Harry's stomach dropped. He'd completely forgotten about summer break and where they would be staying.

"I have made arrangements with Lily and James Potter and they have agreed to let you stay with their family over the summer."

Harry felt as if he'd been punched in the face. "What?" Harry managed to say finally. "We – we're going to stay with the _Potters_?"

Dumbledore nodded simply. "It is the only way to keep you safe over the summer."

"But – but," Harry said, struggling to come up with a reason that they couldn't go to the Potters. "Um, sir ..." he leaned closer, "My mother is the one who killed their son –"

Dumbledore's eyes flashed. "I am aware of that, Mr Lestrange." He sighed and explained, "I considered many different people, but the Potters were the only ones who fit what I was looking for and you will be the safest with them."

Draco and Harry said nothing, just stared at Dumbledore with wide, horrified eyes. "But –"

The Headmaster held up his hands. "Please. Trust me. This is the safest option for the both of you." He paused and then continued. "You'll be picked up at Platform 9 and ¾ by James Potter when summer is out and return with them to their home for the two month duration. I have no doubt that you'll be expected to help out around the house."

Harry and Draco turned to each other with horrified looks on their faces.

"But, I must warn you, boys," Dumbledore said, his eyes sharp and piercing. "No trouble making or bad behaviour will be tolerated this summer. If there is, the consequences will be severe. You have sought asylum and I have granted this; any disrespect or trouble will be dealt with severely. Understood?"

Harry nodded faintly, but only because he wasn't even in Dumbledore's office anymore. He was thinking about his mother and what she was going to do when she found out Harry wasn't coming home for the break.

Summer with the Potters ... well, this was just going to be _fantastic_.

* * *

Three days after they'd sprinkled the poison on Moody's book, which, Harry was happy to report, he had slammed down in their last Defence class two days ago (they had had a final class in each of their courses, just to get the bits of reading and homework they would need to do over the summer).

Moody had been talking about how next year would be a greater challenge and he hoped that all of them studied hard over the summer to make sure that they were ready for next year.

Harry hadn't been paying attention, he'd been watching Moody to see if anything was happening to him in relation to the poison. The powder had flown onto his face and obviously landed in his eyes, as he started to rub his only good one right away.

Currently, he and Draco and the rest of the school were on the platform at Hogsmeade Station

Term had ended yesterday and they had had their end of year feast. It was just as good as the Welcoming Feast, but the food had seemed to have a bitter taste to it, but that was probably because they were going to the Potters tomorrow and neither Harry nor Draco were happy about that.

The train whistle blew and so Harry and Draco boarded the Hogwarts Express with everyone else and got one of the empty compartments. Draco immediately shut the door and locked it, closing the curtains over the door and the windows leading out to the main corridor of the train.

Harry sat and stared out the window, tapping his foot absently as he watched the other students board the train, some of them waving and hugging the huge giant Hagrid as they left.

He spotted Hermione standing with Longbottom and a few of the Weasley kids. Harry watched her talk with them; she looked nervous and anxious – she kept glancing around at everyone. She was probably looking for anyone who looked like they'd been poisoned.

A sharp whistle sounded, alerting the students that it was time to leave. Hermione, Longbottom and the Weasleys got into one of the compartments a few cars away from Harry and Draco and Harry lost sight of them.

It took another few minutes, but once every student had vacated the platform and the conductors had gone around securing the doors, the train started to move slowly.

Harry watched Hogwarts Castle slowly fade in the distance.

Draco had sat down beside him and was also staring out the window.

"I hope we don't have to come back here next year," he said.

Harry said nothing about that, but said, ponderingly, "I wonder if Moody is dead yet ..."

* * *

Moody had never seen his office so clean. He'd swept up all of his scattered cloaks, papers and books with a simple flick of his wand and now was standing staring at the empty room.

He was glad to be leaving. Teaching had been exceptionally boring, and the only thing that Moody actually looked forward to was the duels that the students liked to have. He was coming back next year as well, but not as a favour for Dumbledore. He wanted to keep an eye on Lestrange and Malfoy because even though Dumbledore trusted them, he certainly did not.

Moody took a step towards the door, but suddenly his heart clenched violently. "Ouch!" he said, grabbing at his chest. But, just as quickly as it came, it passed and his heart was back to normal.

That was weird, he thought, massaging his chest. Probably because I'm so old, he thought, chuckling darkly, as he grabbed a bag and threw it over his shoulder.

* * *

"See you later, guys," Fred called out, as he and George headed down to their friend Lee Jordan at the other end of the train.

Hermione, Neville, Ron and Ginny called out a goodbye and turned down the opposite corridor. Almost all of the compartments on the train were already full or had people in them.

Luckily, Ron spotted Jason Potter and Melinda Bobbin sitting alone in a large compartment so he rapped on the window and slid the door open.

"Can we sit here with you guys?" he asked.

Jason and Melinda nodded in unison and Neville, Ron, Hermione and Ginny piled into the compartment. It was now a little cramped, but with a bit of manoeuvring, everyone was able to sit comfortably: Hermione and Neville sat opposite each other against the windows, with Jason and Ron beside Hermione and Melinda and Ginny beside Neville.

The train took a sharp corner, one that Hermione always forgot about. She slid into Ron and muttered a quick sorry.

Ron had flushed when Hermione had slid into him and so he quickly changed the topic. "So, Jason, I hear that Lestrange and Malfoy are staying the summer with you."

Jason's face darkened. "I don't know what my parents were thinking," he said darkly. "Inviting those two creeps to spend the summer with us." He shook his head, as if he couldn't believe it was true.

"Henry's not that bad," Neville protested, looking to Hermione for support. Hermione wrinkled her nose and said nothing.

"His cousin's a creep though," Ginny said, shuddering. "He never smiles and all I've seen him do is glare." She also looked to Hermione, as if wanting her agreement. Hermione once more said nothing, just stared out the window as if the conversation didn't interest her.

"Did they really invite them?" Melinda asked curiously. "Or did Dumbledore ask your parents to do it?"

Jason shrugged. "My mom didn't say, but I bet that no one else would take them. He probably asked a whole bunch of people to do it and my parents were the only decent ones to say yes."

Ginny shivered. "Don't you think that the ..." she lowered her voice, "Death Eaters will come after them when they're not at Hogwarts?"

Hermione snorted, but said nothing, just stared out the window with a funny look on her face.

"I doubt it," Jason said, shrugging. "They had all year to try to get them back and, besides, they're just teenagers – I doubt that Voldemort really cares that much about them."

The two Weasleys flinched when Jason said his name, and Hermione did so too. She was startled – she never said Voldemort herself, but she wasn't scared of saying it. Then it hit her. She had been hanging around Henry and Draco so much that 'the Dark Lord' seemed like the only way to address him.

She shook her head to clear that revolting thought.

* * *

The train rolled to a stop at Platform 9 and ¾ and the train unloaded.

Harry and Draco were among the last to get off at the station, lugging their trunks off with them.

Draco was the one who spotted Jason Potter standing with the tall figure of James Potter.

From what Harry remembered of James, he looked almost the same from the time Harry had seen him at Riddle Manor: hazel eyes framed by glasses and a mop of messy hair.

It was odd to think that James and Rodolphus were cousins. From the portrait in Lestrange Manor, you could see the similar jaw line, but that was where the similarities ended. If anything, James and Rabastan looked more similar.

"Let's get this over with," Draco muttered, starting to walk over to the Potters.

Jason saw them approaching and nudged his father with a dark look o his face. James focused on Harry and Draco, but his eyes shifted to Harry and his face tensed.

Harry wondered how on earth Dumbledore had managed to convince James and Lily to take them over the summer, but he obviously had and James looked none too happy about it.

But, he put on a brave face. "I'm James Potter," James said, once Harry and Draco had joined Jason and himself. He smiled bravely at the two boys. "You can just call me James." Both stared at him with sour expressions. "What are your names?" he prompted.

"Henry," Harry grunted shortly.

"Draco," Draco said coldly.

James and Jason exchanged a glance, but then James cleared his throat. "Nice to meet you." It looked like that had been hard to get out, but James managed to keep his smile on his face. "Come on, the car's parked near the South Entrance."

Harry and Draco exchanged a look. "A car?" Draco questioned.

James nodded, looking irritated. He turned and led the way, pushing Jason's cart for him. Harry and Draco reluctantly followed James and Jason.

James led them to a sleek black car parked in the curb. He popped the trunk and heaved Jason's chest in.

Harry and Draco were left to squeeze theirs in by themselves, as the Potters got into their seats.

"This is ridiculous," Harry muttered, as he shoved his trunk in beside Jason's.

"I know," Draco said, lifting his up and putting it in as well.

Once everything was secure, they each got into a passenger seat of the car, Draco behind James on the right and Harry behind Jason on the left.

James started the car immediately and backed out of the parking lot and sped into the busy London streets.

"Where do you guys live?" Harry asked curiously. It was an innocent question – he just wanted to know.

James narrowed his eyes at him in the rear – view mirror. "That reminds me," he said, sounding a little smug. "You two need to put blind folds on."

Harry and Draco exchanged a look.

"Why?" Harry demanded. How _rude_.

"Lily's orders," James said, shrugging. "She's ... she's paranoid."

The two boys rolled their eyes almost in unison, but there was nothing they could do to argue – they had to stay with the Potters for the summer to keep their cover.

Draco drew his wand and waved it once. Two black ribbons shot out of the end and each tied themselves around one of the two boys' heads, covering their eyes.

"Happy?" Henry said darkly.

James didn't reply.

Harry hated sitting in the dark – it was stupid. He could see the shapes of things through the blindfold but it wasn't the same.

* * *

James was a very reckless driver and he seemed to be quite content to travel at least 20 km/h over the speed limit at all times, or at least that was how it seemed to Jason. When Lily drove it took a long time to get out of London, but with James, and even in rush hour, it took them just an hour. Once on the country roads, James sped up, pushing the speed limit by at least 30 km/h.

"Dad," Jason asked, once they were on one of the country roads. It was mostly deserted, except for one car behind them.

"Yeah, Jace?" James asked.

Jason didn't even hesitate – he'd been dying to know for months and he couldn't wait any longer. "Who's Harry Potter?"

It had been an innocent question, but James had apparently not been expecting that. He slammed on the brakes and because he was going so fast, sent the car spinning on the road. It spun right into a ditch, flipping completely over and landing in the ditch hard, shattering all of the windows in the impact. All four males in the car would've shot right through the roof, save for their seatbelts.

Silence descended onto the car as it came to a stop, the hood smoking and the joints creaking as they settled.

Jason was staring straight ahead, facing the slanted side of the ditch in the direction that they'd just come from. He'd been cut by the flying glass, but otherwise was unhurt. He tried to speak, but Henry beat him to it.

"Bloody hell!" Henry said, sounding shaken and angry. He and Draco had both whipped off their blindfolds and their eyes were wide with alarm. "Are you trying to _kill _us?"

James ignored Henry completely. His voice was hollow and dead when he said, "Where did you hear that name, Jason?"

"At - at school," Jason said, finally finding his voice. "Just at school."

James nodded tightly and, pinching his nose where his glasses no longer were, said, "Everyone okay?"

The three boys all said yes, Henry and Draco very darkly. James pried open his door and stepped out of the car. Henry and Draco followed his lead, but Jason sat, stunned, for a few more minutes.

"Get out, Jason," James said, opening his son's door. His voice was still dead and shocked, but there was a rather harsh edge to it. "Are you all right?" he asked, his voice a little gentler.

Jason nodded stiffly and got out of the car with James's help. James hugged Jason weakly and then turned to Henry and Draco, who were standing together rubbing their necks. They were looking out over the green valley, as if they could see something that the other two couldn't on the far plain.

"Are you two okay?" James asked.

They nodded, saying nothing and continuing to stare over the field, both with unreadable expressions on their faces.

Uneasy, Jason looked away from the two boys and to the car.

It was, surprisingly, not that battered. The windows were all gone, yes, and the paint was scratched, but other than the smoking hood and slightly dented roof, it was fine.

"Oh my god, are you all right?" a lady shouted from the roadway. She'd pulled over her own car and was standing there, with her hand over her mouth.

James forced a smile on his face. "Yes," he called. "We're fine."

"Are you sure?" the lady asked, sliding down the ditch's side and coming to stand at James and Jason's side. "I saw everything – the car flipped!" She looked to Jason to James to Henry and to Draco, all with bleeding cuts and bruises. "You need an ambulance!"

Jason had no idea what that was, but James looked alarmed. "No, no, really. We're fine. Please."

She looked horrified. "Your car flipped over; you need an ambulance!"

James, who was known for being impatient on the best of days and since today was not one of those, pulled out his wand and murmured the Memory Modification Charm. The lady looked slightly dazed, and allowed James to steer her back to her own car.

* * *

Moody nearly fell out of his fireplace. He stumbled violently, having to grab onto the bookcase near the fireplace.

The green flames disappeared, leaving the room bathed in darkness. Moody fumbled for his wand and flicked it, turning on the lamps in the room.

Moody's small house was just as dirty as he'd left it ten months ago, only with a few added layers of dust. He stumbled to his favourite armchair and sat down, massaging his chest.

His heart had never acted like this before – clenching and unclenching. The bloody thing had been doing this at Hogwarts all throughout the end of the year teacher's luncheon. He'd actually left early because he couldn't stand it anymore.

Now that he was home, something else was hurting him. All over his body, his veins seemed to be throbbing and he could actually see his arms starting to swell slightly.

Moody had no idea what was going on with his body, but he suspected foul play.

As the paranoid Moody that he was, he started listing off all the possible times he could've been poisoned or had had a spell cast on him in the recent day.

He wracked his mind for a good ten minutes, but came up with nothing. There had been no chance for anyone to do any harm to him. Even when he slept, he put four different charms on his door to keep people out. There was no way that someone could've broken in then and got him.

It must just be his age, he thought, lying down on his old couch. A little nap and he'd be all better.

* * *

James had found his shattered glasses and repaired them quickly. He was silent as he quickly fixed up the car with several cleverly timed spells – the windows were fixed, the dents all repaired, the tank refilled with new gas.

He stopped whenever a new car pulled over, stopping to see what they could do to help. James just waved them off and forced a smile on his face. "Truck's on its way now," he said. "Don't worry about us, really. We're fine."

One by one, they all left and it was soon just the four original passengers left.

Harry and Draco were sitting on the slight hill of the ditch, staring out at the valley.

Coincidently Riddle Manor was just over the crest of the next hill from where the car had crashed. Draco and Harry could both see it, but neither of the Potters could, as per Voldemort's protection spells.

It made Harry feel terribly homesick. They were so close to it, but couldn't go to it. Not only would it break their cover, it would reveal the location of the Manor to James Potter.

Not a good idea.

So, both boys had resigned themselves to accept that they really had to spend the summer with the Potters. It was a very uncomforting thought.

Jason was still standing by the car, staring at it. Harry was a little surprised – why had Jason asked who Harry Potter was? Didn't he know that his older brother had been killed by Harry's mother?

Well, apparently not.

How stupid were the Potters? Not telling their son that they'd had another one who'd been murdered on Voldemort's orders? Wouldn't they want (wouldn't _Dumbledore _want?) Jason to know that? It would immediately secure his loyalty to Dumbledore.

"All right, let's try this," James said, talking to himself, but his voice carried over to Harry, drawing him out of his thoughts.

It took a cleverly timed levitation charm to get the car out of the ditch, but once James had, he checked that everything as working fine, he let everyone get back in the car, making sure that both Harry and Draco had put their blindfolds back on.

The car worked perfectly fine except for the radio – it was stuck on some loud country music station that made everyone want the car to crash again.

"How much longer?" Harry asked sourly, after they'd been driving for about another hour. The light in the sky had completely faded and they were now driving by the car headlights and the every so often light from street lamps. It was getting harder and harder to see anything through the blindfold.

"About another ten minutes," Jason said. Within a few minutes, they were turning off onto a gravel pathway. James made one last turn and a large, brown shadow came into view.

"You can take your blindfolds off now," James said, pulling into the driveway. Harry and Draco did so and stared up at the manor in front of them.

The lawn in front of the house was bright green and in front of the house was a luscious lily garden, trimmed neatly. The house itself was made of reddish brown bricks, with Gothic arches and large windows and doors. The roof was grey shale, with sharp and angular slants. To the right of the main house was a small archway over a bit of paved road that seemed to lead out into a large backyard, but Harry couldn't make out what was there. The arch connected to a small separate house, built with the same bricks and roof.

Harry didn't like it. It was too warm, too welcoming. He was not used to that kind of house.

He and Draco got out of the car and joined Jason and James at the entrance to the house, their trunks floating beside by James. He unlocked the huge white door and let them all in, setting their trunks down on the white oak floor.

The inside was just as nice as the outside. The main foyer entrance was huge, with a sweeping staircase at the back. Two cushioned white benches lined the walls, as well as a lot of weird artwork that Harry thought belonged in a museum, and not a house.

Jason was looking at his father expectantly.

"We'll talk in a minute," James said shortly, nodding to Jason.

Jason nodded once and turned to head into the kitchen, dropping his backpack by the door as he entered.

James turned to Harry and Draco and clenched his fists at the sight of Harry. He quickly looked away and grunted, "Follow me."

James led the two boys (their trunks floating along behind them) up the oak stairs and to the upper floor.

The walls were painted in a warm cream, with the large windows that Harry had seen outside flooding the room with the dark light from outside.

The hallway was wide, enough for three people to walk side by side comfortably. James paused when they reached the first white door. "This is your bathroom, boys," he said. "There should be everything you need in there."

He continued without saying another word and stopped a few feet down the hall.

"This is your room, Draco," James said, pushing open the door to a light green room. Draco nodded tightly and headed inside, his trunk floating in after him.

James headed down the hallway to another white door. "Henry, this one is yours."

Harry nodded as well, entering his room. The walls were a light, baby blue, with white frames around the floor, windows, and doorway. A single bed with blue sheets was in the middle of the room, with two white end tables on either side. To the left of the bed was a walk in closet and beside that, on the adjoining wall, was a large white dresser. The opposite wall had an oak desk with a simple white chair in front of it and in the corner was a white armchair.

It was a pretty nice room, Harry had to admit, but still – it wasn't home.

He sighed and sat down on the bed, staring out at the front lawn. It was going to be a long summer.

* * *

James braced himself before going down the stairs. To avoid thinking about what he was going to say to his son, he focused on the house around him.

They'd moved there about four years ago, before Jason had started Hogwarts. It was a larger house, with three guest bedrooms and a full size Quidditch Pitch in the backyard.

It had been expensive, but the Potters were rich enough to afford it and there was really no question about it – Lily could barely stand to be in Godric's Hollow.

He heard a cupboard closing in the kitchen and was sharply brought back to himself.

What on earth was he going to say to Jason?

Lily and James had been very careful to shelter Jason's life. They didn't have any history books in the house, none that named Harry Potter at least. Lily had thought of the reasons they kept Harry a secret countless times. It would hurt Jason; frighten him to know his older brother had been murdered by Voldemort. Secretly, for Lily, it was just too hard to talk about, to explain that to Jason.

Once Jason had entered school the probability of him finding out was much more likely. The murder of Harry Potter was one of the things that Bellatrix Lestrange was most famous for and it was only a matter of time.

James took another deep breath and started down the stairs to which was most definitely going to be one of the most difficult conversations of his life.

* * *

Harry waved his wand at the trunk on the floor. It popped open and immediately all the clothes inside shot towards the closet and dresser, floating there expectantly.

One more wave of his wand, and the dresser drawers opened and the doors of the closet opened. The clothes all shot into where they belonged and once they were all folded or hung nicely, the dresser and closet closed up.

Everything else that Harry had in his trunk (books, his broomstick, quills, etc) had floated over to the desk and had arranged themselves nicely: books piled in a neat order, quills lined up, with one already dipped in the inkwell. His broomstick leaned up against his desk precariously, so Harry waved his wand once more and the broom headed over to the closet (the doors opening for it) and settled itself on the top shelf.

As the closet doors shut themselves again, Harry examined his trunk. There were no ink stains on the inside of it and he hadn't noticed any spills on any of his clothes, but that was expected.

Harry's trunk was unharmed from the car accident because he charmed it before they left. He hadn't been expecting anything to happen, but it was something he always did to protect his items inside the chest.

Harry waved his wand once more and a glass of water appeared on the desk, the glass chilled and the water cold.

He didn't care about the law of underage wizardry. The worst they would do was send him a warning letter, but that wouldn't happen anyways while at a magical residence. Even if they did somehow learn that Harry had performed magic, it's not like they'd expel him – Dumbledore would see to that. Hogwarts was "the only safe place" for them, according to the old fool.

Now that his room was in order, he headed out to the hall and to Draco's room. It was basically the same, except it was tarragon green instead of blue.

"Hey," Draco said, flicking his wand at the dresser, as he had just unpacked as well.

"Hey," Harry replied, sitting down in Draco's chair in the corner. He looked out the window and said, "We're so close to home," Harry said wistfully.

Draco looked out the window as well. "I know," he said quietly. "I can't believe that the Potters live so close to Riddle Manor."

To anyone else who didn't know the location of Lord Voldemort's house, they would just hear a jumble of words when Draco spoke the words, so it was safe to talk about it.

Harry laughed shortly. "Could you imagine if they knew? If the Dark Lord knew?"

"The war would be taking place on the front lawn," Draco said, smirking slightly.

Harry grinned, but then sobered and looked down sharply to his watch on his left wrist. "It's nine thirty. Do you think Moody's dead yet?"

Draco shrugged. "I don't know, probably, though." He grinned then, his eyes lighting with evil. "We'll find out soon enough."

* * *

James sat down at the kitchen table, opposite his son. Jason had gotten them both a glass of water, but both remained untouched.

James had told Jason that they were going to wait for Lily to arrive home for them to talk. Jason looked annoyed, but he had said nothing about it.

Thankfully, just a few minutes later, the fireplace in the adjoining family room illuminated with bright green flames and Lily Potter stepped out of the fireplace, dropping her heavy bag at her feet.

"Hello everyone!" she called out cheerily, but once she focused on her son and husband at the kitchen table, paled. "What's going on?" she asked, coming over to the kitchen table and sitting down immediately.

James looked at her and didn't smile at all. He said nothing, as if he was out of words.

Lily looked to Jason. "Jace?" she asked, a little nervously. "What's happened?

He hesitated and looked to James, who didn't make any movement to explain. Jason asked, in a quiet voice, "Mum, who's Harry Potter?"

She flinched violently and threw her hands up to her head. "What?" she asked, as if she hadn't heard correctly. "What?"

Jason had also flinched at Lily's reaction. He looked nervously from his mother to his father. "Who is he?"

Lily and James looked at each other, Lily shocked and James resigned. "We have to tell him, Lils," James said, resignedly.

"Tell me what?" Jason demanded.

Lily said nothing, but after a few moments nodded reluctantly. She reached for James's hand, who grasped it tightly.

"What's going on?" Jason asked, sounding anxious.

"H-Harry Potter was your older brother," James said. "He was murdered."

Jason's mouth fell open. "Murdered?"

James nodded, a little jerkily. "It was before you born, Jason. That's why we didn't tell you about him – we were afraid it would frighten you to know that your own brother had been murdered –"

"Frighten me?" Jason repeated, his voice hollow. "Didn't you think I deserved to know?"

"Jason –" Lily started, reaching for his hand, but he jerked away.

"Who was it?" Jason asked, his voice flat. "Who did it?"

Lily and James exchanged a look – if they said that Bellatrix had been the one, chances were that Jason would march upstairs and try to kill Henry, which would only result in Jason getting injured. "Voldemort," they said together.

"Voldemort?" Jason repeated, sounding shocked. "Vold - VOLDEMORT KILLLED MY BROTHER?" he shouted. "You didn't tell me that the guy we've been fighting for I don't even know how many years killed my b-brother!"

"Not him himself," James said quickly. "One of his Death Eaters."

"A _Death Eater_," Jason said, spitting the word. "Which one?"

Lily opened her mouth to say they didn't know, but then Jason kept talking.

"It doesn't even matter which one. It's all Voldemort. All him. All him." Jason shook his head, hopelessly. He put his head down on the table and fell silent.

* * *

The shouting from downstairs had interrupted Draco and Harry's conversation about how Harry was going to write to Neville sometime during the summer and say that they should get together and do something.

Even if it was in a secure location and the Death Eaters couldn't come in and get him, it still would help Harry with the trying to befriend Neville plan.

The shouting fell silent and Harry assumed that the Potters had finally told their son about Harry Potter. He wondered vaguely if they told him _who_ had killed him, but he doubted it – it wouldn't be safe for Jason to know, especially when Bellatrix's child was staying with them.

He couldn't believe that they'd kept that important fact from their son for this long. Wouldn't they want Jason to know why the Dark Lord was "evil" and was to be defeated? Honestly...

* * *

James leaned back from the fireplace, and cast a glance at his son and wife at the table. Lily was murmuring quietly to Jason and stroking his hair. He hadn't moved since he'd dropped his head to the table.

James had just called Sirius and Remus and told them what had happened. Both were on their way now.

The fireplace swirled green and Remus stepped out, looking pale and shaky.

"How is he, James?" he asked in a low voice.

James just shrugged. "Pretty horrible, actually. Moony –" James lowered his voice. "We didn't tell him about it being Bellatrix. Don't."

Remus nodded sadly and headed over to the kitchen table, patting Lily on the shoulder as a greeting. He sat down on the other side of Jason and murmured something to him. Jason didn't react.

The fireplace lit up with green flames once more and Sirius stepped out, looking very morose. He nodded at James and said, his voice almost inaudible, "Does he know about Bellatrix?"

James shook his head. "No. Don't tell him."

Sirius nodded and the two best friends went over to the kitchen table. The kitchen was still rather quiet, as Remus had stopped speaking to Jason.

Sirius looked sad. "Hey, Jace," he greeted in a quiet voice, sitting down beside Remus.

Once more, Jason didn't react.

The three Marauders and Lily sat in silence as they watched Jason. His head was still down on the table and he was quiet, but suddenly, his head snapped up.

"Dad," he said, sounding apprehensive and just a little bit hopeful, "does the Marauder's Map lie?"

James was surprised. He looked at Sirius and Remus, both who shook their heads. "No – no, it can't. Why?"

"Because that's how I saw the name," Jason said. "It was on the Map."

Remus, Sirius, James's mouths all fell open and Sirius nearly toppled out of the chair.

* * *

A/N: What do you think? Please review!


	16. Summer with the Potters

A/N: thanks for the reviews; you're all so amazing! Really! I'm sorry I'm such a fail! I'll try not to let the update time take so long next time, I swear!

A lot of shorter scenes in this one, you'll notice, and it's just kind of a filler chapter. Sorry, but hopefully all those straggly loose ends will be wrapped up nicely in the next one. Oh, and guess what? It's almost been a year since I first posted the story! How exciting!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to the wonderful JK Rowling.

**Chapter Sixteen – Summer with the Potters**

James stared at his son, his face pale and eyes wide. He couldn't believe what Jason had just said. "What?" James asked, sounding strangled.

"I saw the name on the Map," Jason repeated, looking from every face at the table and back again. He looked pale, as if he hadn't expected this kind of response from saying those few words.

"Impossible," Lily said, who knew about the Map. "It must be a mistake," she added reasonably, looking from her husband to Sirius and Remus. "Right?"

The Marauders all shook their heads. "The Map never lies," they said solemnly, as one. "It can't," Remus explained. "We put a spell on it when we were making it."

"But then – how?" Lily said, almost hesitantly.

The table descended into silence. James's mind was whirring – how was this possible? It couldn't be true, he thought. The Map couldn't lie – that had been Moony's idea all those years ago. There was no way, _no way_, that Harry Potter's name could've been read on the Map.

Jason must've misread the name.

"Did you misread the name?" Sirius asked then, speaking James's thoughts.

Jason shook his head. "No, I'm sure it was Harry Potter." He paused. "I saw it twice."

"Twice?" Lily said sharply.

Jason nodded. "Yeah." He paused. "Is there another Harry Potter? One that we don't know about?"

Remus shook his head. "Not that I'm aware of. Lily, you work at Hogwarts: you would know if there was a student named Harry Potter."

Lily frowned. "There isn't one," she said. "I know all the students there."

Jason opened his mouth, looking hesitant. "Mum ...couldn't he be a ghost?"

Lily and James exchanged a look. "I don't know, Jason. He could be, I suppose," Lily said, her voice tight. "We'll speak to Dumbledore about this. If anyone will know about this, he will."

* * *

The whole car ride home Hermione had been quiet, thinking about who Henry and Draco had poisoned. And who she'd helped to kill.

Mr Granger, who had picked her up in London, hadn't said much either, obviously aware that something else was on Hermione's mind. Hermione did notice that he had was balder than he had been the last time she'd seen him, but his eyes still were the warm brown they always were.

They'd finally arrived home at around eight thirty, after a long car ride. Their house in Ipswich was two and a half hours away from London, but the traffic had held them up longer.

"Hi, Mum," Hermione said, entering her house just ahead her father. A sudden wave of exhaustion hit and suddenly all she wanted to do was go crawl into bed and sleep for days.

"Hello!" came a voice from the kitchen. "I'm in here!"

Her father dropped her trunk on the floor near the doorway, loudly, and earning himself a reproachful look from Hermione.

"I have books in there," she reminded.

He rolled his eyes. "Books can't break from dropping them, Hermione."

Mrs Granger came into the foyer then and smiled brightly at her daughter. She looked very much like Hermione – bushy hair and almost identical facial features.

"Finally!" she exclaimed, hugging her daughter tightly. "How was your trip, dear?"

"Long," Hermione said, sighing. Her stomach rumbled, loud and clear. "I'm starving," she added, pointedly.

"You're in luck," Mrs Granger said, grinning. "Come on, I made you some food."

Hermione followed her mother into the kitchen and sat down at the table. She had missed being at home, but surprisingly not as much as she had the previous years.

Mr Granger took a seat next to Hermione, muttering about how sore and tired he was after lifting Hermione's trunk, although in a joking manner.

Mrs Granger set two plates in front of her husband and Hermione, both full of steaming potatoes and a glazed chicken breast.

"Thanks," Hermione said, immediately digging in.

The meal was good and as Hermione and her father finished, Mrs Granger made them both hot chocolate (a rare thing in the Granger household, so Hermione didn't even point out that it was June).

They all moved into the living room, which had been rearranged since Hermione had last been here. She was so preoccupied with the thought of what she'd done with Draco and Henry to even notice any changes other than that it was different.

"So, how was the rest of your year, darling?" Mrs Granger asked. They'd seen Hermione at Easter break, but a lot happened in a few months.

Hermione shrugged, wondering what her parents would think if they knew she'd helped two Death Eaters (even as Muggles, the Grangers knew who Voldemort and the Death Eaters were) poison and murder someone.

"Good, I suppose. My exams were challenging, but I think I did okay."

"You probably did amazing, Hermione," Mr Granger said, grinning. "You always do."

Hermione sipped her hot chocolate and smiled weakly at her parents, although her mind was still far away, still back at Hogwarts castle and in the world of magic, wondering who on earth was going to die from a poison that she herself had helped make.

She shuddered once, even though the air was warm and she was drinking hot chocolate. It was a terrifying thought and she couldn't help but hope, even though she was ashamed to admit it, that the two Death Eaters would be so accustomed to murder that they'd be able to get away with it easily.

She was worried for whoever this person was, but also, selfishly, for herself. She didn't want to be incriminated for this – it really wasn't her fault!

* * *

Someone knocked on the door to Draco's bedroom and a few moments later, Lily Potter opened it. Her eyes were slightly ringed with red and her voice a little hoarse. "There's some dinner for you downstairs in the kitchen."

The two boys exchanged a dark look and got to their feet. Lily had already disappeared, down the stairs and Harry and Draco followed her. Potter Manor was oddly quieter than it had been since they'd arrived and Harry bet he knew why.

Lily led them through an archway and into the Potters' kitchen. It was large, probably about three sizes bigger than it was necessary for a family of three. There was a round, white oak kitchen table with five pearly white chairs spread equally around, a vase of white lilies stood as its centrepiece.

Harry didn't like it at all. Too light, too bright. At his house, the kitchen was all dark wood with black marble counters and besides, he never even went in there unless to get a midnight snack. The houseleves did all the cooking in Lestrange Manor, anyways.

Lily walked over to a silvery stovetop where a large silver pot sat, stirring itself. Steam rose from the pot and every once and a while a small bubble would erupt on the surface, splattering the surrounding area. A knife was chopping some carrots and celery on the counter and shuffling them equally onto two small plates.

"Here you two go," she said, drawing her wand from behind her ear. She flicked it once and the ladle that had been stirring the pot scooped out some of the steaming soup and poured it into two bowls. They floated into Lily's hands and she handed them to the boys. It was steaming hot and Harry almost dropped it; he practically ran over to the table to put it down.

Once Draco had joined him, shaking his hands because of the heat, Lily said, shortly, "Your vegetables will be finished soon." The knife finished cutting just as she spoke, thrusting the remaining celery and carrots onto the dishes. They then floated over to the table, along with two glasses of lemonade that Lily had poured.

Neither Harry nor Draco said thank you as Lily walked past them. For the first time, Harry noticed that there was an adjoining room to the kitchen – a wide open sitting room. Jason was sitting on a brown leather sofa with a tired, greying man next to him. Harry recognized the man from somewhere, but he couldn't place the face to the name. On the opposite sofa sat a man that Harry did recognize – Sirius Black.

Harry was extremely surprised to see Black here. He was wanted dead by Voldemort and to let himself be seen by the kids of two of Voldemort's top Death Eaters ... wow, what a moron.

Harry could see it now – how grateful Voldemort would be if he and Draco were to hand Sirius Black over to him.

They should've kept their poison for him. Harry's eyes flickered to Draco, who was obviously thinking the same thing.

Black was looking at Harry with his dark eyes so similar to Bellatrix's and his own – Harry felt his heart twang at that sight and he looked elsewhere.

In a white armchair beside Jason's couch sat James, who was staring out the large window with a blank look on his face. His wife patted him on the arm as she walked by, joining Sirius on the sofa.

The Potters and Black were silent, but the man on the couch was speaking in a low voice to Jason.

With a jolt, Harry recognized him – the man he'd bumped into at Diagon Alley several years ago with Narcissa. She'd called him ... what was it? Oh, yes – a werewolf.

Harry unwillingly inhaled sharply, making the werewolf glance up from Jason. He looked at Harry with a curious look on his face and then looked back down.

Harry had known the Potters were stupid, but _this_? They associated with a werewolf? Willingly?

Sure, Bellatrix knew Fenrir Greyback, but even she wasn't crazy enough to invite him into their home.

The thought of Bellatrix brought another twang of homesickness to his stomach. Harry looked back to his soup and began to eat, not even feeling the scalding taste as it burned down his throat.

* * *

For once, Sirius was quiet. He was sitting silently in Lily and James's living room, across from Jason.

The conversation they had just had should never have happened. No child should ever be told that their older brother was murdered in cold blood before they themselves were even born.

And to top it all off ... Bellatrix's son was sitting in the Potters' kitchen, eating his soup with a sour expression on his face.

How could Lily and James have allowed this? Letting their son's murderer's own son live with them for a whole summer!

Sirius clenched his fists and let out a sharp breath. Lily, who was sitting beside Jason and Remus, caught his eye, her jaw tightening. She shook her head ever so slightly and looked back to Jason. Sirius relaxed his fists slightly and looked once more over to Henry Lestrange at the table.

He still remembered the time when he'd been captured in Voldemort's headquarters and had saw the boy, immediately thinking he was James.

It was slight now, but Sirius could still see a resemblance. Their facial structures were similar – the jaw line, the cheekbones. Henry's sour look reminded him of what James had looked like at fifteen, when he was still an asshole and picked on Severus Snape daily.

It had been a stupid thought, really, Sirius thought to himself. Thinking that Henry, the son of Bellatrix and Rodolphus, could look so similar to James. It really wasn't that big of a deal – Rodolphus and James were cousins after all, and so there was nothing really odd about it.

He'd already been through all of these arguments years ago, but he couldn't help himself thinking them again. Don't be so daft, he scolded himself, looking away sharply. You have more important things to worry about.

* * *

Once Harry and Draco were finished eating, they rose from the table.

Lily jumped up from the couch and hurried over to them. "May I speak to you two, please?" Lily led them out of the kitchen into an adjoining, elegant, dining room. "I just want to tell you a few rules that you'll have to obey this summer."

Harry and Draco exchanged a look, but said nothing.

"You have the free reign of the house and the grounds, but just let me or James know if you two decide to go for a walk or go outside, please."

Harry didn't like that. Why should they have to do that – were they under house arrest?

"Also, Dumbledore has requested that you two stick around Potter Manor during the summer –"

"We're trapped here?" Harry asked sharply.

"No, no, of course not," Lily said hurriedly. "You can leave with either James or I, but the wards will keep you within the boundaries of the grounds because you are not an adult yet." She smiled apologetically. "When the wards were made, we did it so Jason couldn't wander off when he was younger. Sorry about that. Otherwise, you will have a great deal of freedom – you are, by no means, prisoners."

Yeah, right, Harry thought darkly. Not being allowed off the property was the stupidest thing he'd ever heard of. How was he going to see Bellatrix with this rule?

* * *

Moody woke up violently from his nap in the middle of the night, shivering and shaking.

He scrambled to his feet, his fake leg making him slip on the wooden floor. He stumbled to the kitchen in his little house, grabbing the edges of the sink before he vomited all over it. He didn't even look at the vomit in the sink, just quivered, holding his stomach.

He limped back over to his couch, lying down. Within moments, he started to cough loudly and violently, nearly rolling off the edge of the couch at the ferocity.

He closed his eyes, not even blinking at the bead of sweat the trickled through the eyelid. He took one more weak breath and then Moody breathed no more.

* * *

Harry was awoken the next morning by a blinding ray of sunlight coming in through his window.

He groaned, rolling over and stuffing his face into his pillows, but try as he might, he couldn't fall back asleep.

Muttering darkly, Harry sat up straight in bed and immediately freaked out. He had no idea where he was –

Oh yeah.

He slumped back against the headboard. Of course; how could he forget? Summer with the Potters.

Now in an even worse mood, Harry swung his legs out of the bed and quickly got dressed. He then headed downstairs, briefly thinking that he should've probably made sure Draco was up as well.

But it was too late and Harry entered the kitchen. Jason was sitting at the kitchen table with a plate of waffles in front of him, though he wasn't really eating them – just pushing the cut pieces around and around. Draco wasn't there, but Lily was standing at the stove, whistling.

Harry's entrance caught her attention and she immediately frowned. "Do you like waffles?"

Harry shrugged; it really didn't matter to him. "I suppose," he said sullenly. He sat down at the kitchen table, across from Jason. Harry looked out the window and his jaw dropped. "You have a Quidditch Pitch in your backyard?" he demanded. He hadn't noticed it yesterday, but now, in better light, he could see it all.

Jason turned around to look out the window and then turned back, a sour expression on his face. "Yeah. Dad, Sirius and Remus made it a few years ago."

Huh. Well, Harry could definitely put up with being trapped on Potter Manor grounds if there was a Quidditch pitch in their backyard.

"You'll have to give Henry and Draco a tour later, Jason," Lily said, placing the steaming plate in front of Harry.

Jason scowled, but he nodded at his mother's sharp look. Lily swept away Jason's empty plate and started back to the kitchen sink when James suddenly burst in through the kitchen doors.

Lily jumped in alarm, but once she saw who it was, she relaxed. "Merlin, James ... I thought –"

"Lily ... Lily, Moody's dead." His voice was breathless, as if he couldn't believe it.

Harry choked on a bite of waffles and quickly grabbed the pitcher of orange juice, pouring himself a glass and then draining it.

"What?" Lily said, dropping the plate she was holding; it shattered on the floor instantly.

"He – he's dead!" James said, sounding shaken. "Look!" He threw the paper on the kitchen table and collapsed into one of the chairs. Lily picked it up, her hands trembling slightly. She read it and her green eyes widened in horror.

"Oh, James!" she said, once she was done, walking over to her husband and placing the paper on the table, directly in the middle of Jason and Harry.

They both looked at it and then at each other. Harry reached out his hand faster than Jason could and snatched the paper up.

"Hey!" he protested.

"You can read it after," Harry snapped, eager to see what it said.

_MOODY'S MYSTERIOUS DEATH_

_It is a well known fact that Mad Eye Moody believed that Death Eaters were out to get him at every turn. Well, it seems, finally, that the old Auror was correct. _

_He was found dead this morning in his own home by one of his Aurors Nymphadora Tonks. _

"_He was just lying on his couch, pale as death, when I came in," said Auror Tonks, looking rightfully distraught. _

_She called Healers right away, but they were unable to revive him and pronounced him dead at the scene._

_The Aurors are baffled at Moody's death – they have said that there was no sign of forced entry or anything to do with Dark magic. _

_St Mungo's have not released how the Auror died, only that he appears to have been suffering from a severe illness that may have come up suddenly._

_Moody was in his late sixties and a successful Auror for many years. This year, he was the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts and had plans to return next year._

_A spokesperson from Hogwarts reported that he was in excellent health when he left Hogwarts yesterday and that everyone there is baffled and saddened by Moody's sudden death. _

_The condition that Moody's body was it seems to suggest poison, but St Mungo's has reported that it is no poison that they know of creates the symptoms that Moody had._

_The Aurors have already reported that a full investigation into Moody's death will ensue._

"How horrible," Harry said, handing the paper to Jason and looking down at his plate of food with a smile on his face. His day had just gotten a whole lot better.

* * *

"Thank you," Hermione said, tucking a Knut into the delivery owl's pouch. It hooted at her and then flew off out of her bedroom window.

Hermione unrolled the _Daily Prophet _and nearly dropped it when she read the front page.

'_MOODY'S MYSTERIOUS DEATH'_

She gasped, reading the article in a matter of moments. Unrecognizable symptoms?

She dropped the paper onto the ground and stepped away, her hand going to her mouth. No. She'd helped them kill ... _kill a teacher!_

Her mouth started to tremble and she took a seat on her bed. She felt shock and unbelievable guilt at what she had done.

Moody had never been horrible to her; in fact, he'd been very impressed with her ability at magic. She'd really liked him as a teacher – he'd made Defence Against the Dark Arts interesting.

And now ... now he was dead.

All of a sudden, Hermione felt anger. She jumped to her feet, clenching her fists. Those bastards! They'd tricked her into this and she could just see them now – rejoicing over the fact that their plan had been successful.

They were going to get it when she saw them next!

* * *

Harry was just finishing his breakfast, when Draco entered the room. He took one look at the two Potters all talking in low voices and Harry happily munching his food before his face broke into a grin.

"What's wrong?" he asked, faking ignorance.

Lily looked over at him and didn't answer his question. "Breakfast?"

Draco looked very annoyed that she had ignored his question so he just nodded mutely, taking a seat next to Harry. Harry slid his cousin the newspaper and Draco looked at it briefly, only reading the headline – that was all he needed or wanted to know.

Lily waved her wand and a plate of food floated over to Draco, and then she looked away again, speaking in a low voice to her husband.

Harry had no doubt that they'd be off soon, probably to an Order of the Phoenix meeting. He smiled again – Dumbledore must be furious.

* * *

"You'll be all right?" Lily asked, fastening her cloak, as she and James stood near the fireplace, ready to Floo away to the Order Headquarters.

Jason nodded, his eyes looking briefly to the doorway where Henry and Draco had left through, probably up to their separate rooms.

Lily saw him looking and she frowned. "Jason, if you want to come, I'm sure that Dumbledore won't mind –"

"And leave those two all alone here?" Jason said, laughing darkly. "Yeah, right, Mum."

Lily didn't smile. "I don't think it's safe to leave you alone with them –"

"Well, maybe you shouldn't have volunteered our home to place two Death Eaters for the summer, then," Jason hissed at his mother.

Lily's eyes flashed with hurt, and she closed her mouth on her reply.

"Jason," James said sharply. "Apologize to your mother."

Father and son stared at each other for a moment, and then Jason muttered, "Sorry."

They fell into a bit of silence and then Lily spoke. "We'll be back in time for supper, I'm sure. If not, you can get yourself some soup, right?"

"Yeah," Jason said, still in a sour mood. He hesitated and then asked, "Will you ask about ... about Harry Potter?"

Lily and James looked briefly at each other. "If there's time," James said, gently.

Jason nodded, looking glum.

Lily stepped into the fireplace first and was quickly followed by James, both of them disappearing in the green flames.

* * *

Bellatrix was storming down the halls in Lestrange Manor, her footsteps echoing like thunderclaps. The houseleves had all scattered and disappeared the moment that one of Voldemort's spies had come and told Bellatrix where Henry was spending the summer.

Bellatrix had always agreed with the 'don't kill the messenger' but this was a special case. The body of the man, who Bellatrix didn't even know the name of, was still lying on the foyer floor.

She was absolutely furious.

_Furious_!

Dumbledore ... Dumbledore had sent her baby to the Potters! TO THE POTTERS! She'd thought _she_ was insane, but Dumbledore? What was he thinking? Sending Henry Lestrange to the house of Lily and James Potter? Bellatrix had murdered Harry Potter! And Dumbledore had sent her child to their house! That moron, that complete and utter IDIOT!

Bellatrix let out a shriek as she walked down the hall. She came to stop, kicking at the wall and pounding on it with her fists.

She had been angry before, but this was one of the worst tempers Bellatrix had ever experienced.

Henry's mission had been to go to Hogwarts, attend there and get close to Longbottom. Bellatrix had had enough problems with that, but she'd grown accustomed to the idea that Henry was at Hogwarts, doing important work there for the Dark Lord.

But this ... this had not been part of the deal! Henry was supposed to have been able to come home for the summer, not _spend it with the Potters_!

She let out another shriek of anger, kicking a table that lined the wall. It tipped over, shattering all the pictures and glass ornaments on it.

One particular picture that fell caught Bellatrix's eye. It was of Henry and Bellatrix, taken by Narcissa when Henry was about nine or ten. The image was of Bellatrix sitting on an elegant chair, Henry standing beside her. Every so often, Henry would duck behind the chair, poking his head out on the other side and making a funny face. The Bellatrix in the picture kept looking at the camera, but her eyes betrayed her amusement at her son.

Bellatrix didn't smile at the picture – she was too angry. Furious that this had been taken away from her, she threw the picture at the wall. The glass, which had only cracked, now shattered and sprayed the entire hallway with sharp shards of glass.

She stormed through the house, kicking at tables and the walls as she went. She overturned one of the sofas in the living room with just a glance at it and nearly took the door off the hinges. She was going to see the Dark Lord – he would not be happy.

* * *

The Order of the Phoenix's Headquarters, a small basement suite in northern London that had been magically expanded to fit three meeting rooms and various other needed rooms, was already crowded.

Lily and James had arrived about twenty minutes before the emergency meeting was scheduled to start and in that time another ten people had arrived. Remus had already been there, but as usual, Sirius was one of the last to arrive.

But, unlike usual, his face and expression was dark. "Prongs, Moony," he greeted, clapping Remus on the shoulder. "Lily," he added. His eyes flickered around and his eyes darkened. "Where's Jason?"

"At the Manor," Lily said calmly.

"With the two Death Eaters?" Sirius hissed. "Are you insane?"

"Sirius," James said, stepping forward. "Stop it. Jason didn't want to come with us, so just stop it."

Sirius still looked angry, but with another dark look from his friend, he backed off.

From one of the meeting rooms, Minerva McGonagall entered, her face grave. "We're going to begin the meeting now," was all she said, before returning to the room.

The Order members filed in solemnly, and somehow everyone managed to grab a seat, even though the table could not have come with this many chairs.

Dumbledore was sitting at the head of the table, his face grave and eyes sad. He raised his hands slightly and immediately everyone quieted down. "The Ministry has given us no reason to be alarmed over Alastor's death, citing the fact that it was a just a sudden illness that took him. However, as my teachers and myself know, Alastor was perfectly healthy when he left Hogwarts yesterday evening."

Dumbledore looked to Minerva, Lily and Severus, all who nodded solemnly. "He was fine," Minerva confirmed.

"And so, that is why I am concerned that foul play _did _play a role in Alastor's passing." Dumbledore paused and then continued. "But, so far, no one has claimed responsibility for Alastor's death."

"What?"

"Really?"

"But –"

Dumbledore held his hands up again. "I know what you are all thinking – it must've been the Death Eaters."

"Well, of course," said Frank Longbottom, from down the table. "No one else would want him dead!"

"This is not their style, Frank," Dumbledore said sadly. "The Death Eaters would not poison Alastor – they would murder him outright."

The table fell silent.

"Then who could it be?" James inquired.

"Well –" Dumbledore began, but then Remus spoke up.

"Don't you think that Moody could've just died from simply a very grave illness? Who says he was murdered? Where's your proof?"

The table all looked to Dumbledore; he had not strayed from his calm, serene look. "You are right, Remus – I have no proof. That is why I am asking some of you – Frank, Sirius and Nymphadora –"

"Don't call me that!"

" – to do some digging into Alastor's home and discover if he ate anything suspicious or if there are any traces of poison in the house."

Sirius, Frank and the girl named Nymphadora all nodded and, with a sigh, Dumbledore changed the topic to something else.

The rest of the meeting was short and once it had been adjourned, Lily and James approached Dumbledore.

"James, Lily," he greeted, nodding at them as he arranged papers on the table in front of him. "How are Henry and Draco doing?"

"Well, they just got there, but I think they'll find it all right," Lily said, though she didn't believe that at all. She hesitated and then continued, "Albus, there's something we need to talk to you about."

Dumbledore's eyes snapped up at Lily's tone and he frowned. "Sit," he offered, gently. The Potters obeyed, but fell silent as soon as they'd sat.

"What is it?" Dumbledore prodded gently.

"It's ... well, it has to do with Harry," James said reluctantly.

"Harry?" Dumbledore repeated, frowning. His frown deepened. "Your Harry?"

Lily nodded jerkily. "You see, sir –" she took a deep breath and then started talking so fast that James had trouble understanding her – "when James and his friends were at school they made a Map, a Map that shows everyone who's in the school, where they are and all the passageways in and out of the school."

Dumbledore looked to James, smiling slightly. "So that's how you did it."

James flushed. "Yes," he said, sounding just like an abashed schoolboy.

Dumbledore, still smirking, looked back to Lily. "Please continue, Lily."

"The Map cannot lie – Remus made sure of that when they were making it – and so when Jason saw a name on it ... well, we just had to tell you."

Looking very interested, Dumbledore raised one eyebrow. "Yes?"

Lily hesitated and then whispered, "He saw the name Harry Potter."

At first, Dumbledore's eyes widened and then they narrowed; he was straight to logical answers. "Are you sure that Jason did not simply misread the name?"

"Yes," Lily said firmly. "He even saw it twice."

Dumbledore paled. "Twice?"

Lily nodded. "Yes." She hesitated. "Albus – Albus, what could this mean?"

Dumbledore didn't answer for several minutes. "I don't know, Lily." He paused. "I'll need to see the Map, James. Can you bring it to me?"

"Yes," James said, sounding a little put out that he would have to hand over one of his many troublemaking creations to the Headmaster himself.

* * *

Voldemort was thrilled – Moody was dead.

He could care less who had murdered the man or for what purpose – he was just incredibly pleased that the meddling Auror was dead.

With Moody out of the way, Voldemort's plan could start. There were too many Death Eaters in Azkaban, put there by Moody, and now ... now they could be set free.

"With Moody gone," Voldemort began softly, instantly silencing the quiet murmur of chatter at the meeting table, "it is now time for us to begin the liberation of Azkaban."

The murmurs started again, this time with interest.

"Azkaban, my lord?" asked Bellatrix, looking thoughtful.

"Yes, Bella. Azkaban."

The Death Eaters all exchanged looks amongst themselves.

"Once my Death Eaters are free, we will have more numbers and it will be easier to get Longbottom from Hogwarts," Voldemort continued. He looked to Bellatrix and without saying anything, she addressed his question.

"I'll speak to Henry about it, my lord," Bellatrix said. Her eyes gleamed with anger and then she added, "Dumbledore has sent Henry and Draco to spend the summer with the Potters."

"The Potters?" cried the Death Eaters collectively in laughter, while Bellatrix flushed with anger. She opened her mouth to speak, but Voldemort interrupted her, silencing both her and the laughing Death Eaters.

"Yes, my spy informed me," Voldemort said, nodding once. "She is a teacher at the school; she overheard Dumbledore ordering the Potter woman to take them in."

"What are we going to do about that?" Bellatrix demanded. "We can't just –"

"We have to leave it as it is," Voldemort said, although he was just as furious as Bellatrix was. When his spy had informed him of this, he'd nearly killed her. He hadn't, though, seeing as she was still useful.

Henry and Draco had had a new job for the summer because Voldemort was annoyed at their slow progress with Longbottom, but now, he'd have to forgo on that assignment all together. It had been simple, but only those two had been able to do it – invite Neville Longbottom out for a day to Diagon Alley where the Death Eaters would swoop down and take him.

Now, that was ruined and all thanks to Dumbledore. It also spelled out another problem: Dumbledore didn't trust Henry or Draco at all.

* * *

Within the next three days, Sirius, Nymphadora (who demanded to be known as Tonks) and Frank had finished investigating Moody's house and found nothing out of the ordinary (other than a pile of vomit in the sink, but that had been tested and found clean of any known poisons) and so Dumbledore, who had been named executor of Moody's estate, called for his funeral.

Lily and James had left Draco at home again, but brought along Henry and Jason. Henry wanting to come had been a surprise, but they had agreed to it nevertheless.

Henry had received many shocked looks when they'd arrived, and the shock soon turned to anger that the son of Voldemort's number one was attending the funeral of Moody, Dumbledore's number one.

The ceremony had been short, as had the burial. Most people had drifted away from the grave, chatting in quiet voices before departing.

"Albus," James called, getting Dumbledore's attention.

The old Headmaster, who had been talking with Minerva McGonagall, strode over to the Potters, his face grim. "Yes?"

"Here's the map," James said, handing Dumbledore a blank piece of parchment. "To reveal it, tap it and say, 'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.' When you're done, say, 'mischief managed.'"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at that and he nodded. "Thank you, James. I promise to return it as soon as I can."

James nodded, smiling. "Thanks."

The Headmaster nodded again, and looked over the Map. He looked to Jason and said, "Jason, tell me what happened."

Jason did so, telling Dumbledore everything that had happened with the Map – seeing the name for the first time, the second time and even his thoughts that maybe Harry Potter was a ghost.

Dumbledore looked intrigued by that and he nodded. "Well, I'll look into it," he promised. He looked around and his eyes settled on Henry. "You brought Henry, I see?"

"Yes," Lily said. "He wanted to come and since Moody was his teacher this year, I couldn't really say no."

"No, it is good that you brought him," Dumbledore said, watching Henry give a dark stare to a mourner who had been doing likewise. "Our world needs to see that people can have a light side, even when brought up by darkness."

* * *

Moody's funeral was one of the most tedious things that Harry had ever sat through. He'd come just to see for himself the effects of the poison and what someone who had died from it looked like.

It was rather disappointing, if he said so himself. Moody had been magicked by the embalmers to look normal (well, as normal as Moody could look), but from what Harry could make out, Moody just looked sick. He was pale, paler than Harry thought a corpse should've been

Harry was starting to wish, as he moved outside with the Potters to the little cemetery behind the church, that he'd remained at home with Draco. His cousin had looked appalled when Harry told him he was going to the funeral. The Potters had likewise been shocked into silence when Harry arrived with them at the fireplace, ready to Floo to the service. But, they'd said nothing and nearly nothing to him since they'd arrived either.

He'd sat with the Potters during the service, highly aware that he was getting odd looks from everyone around him. He'd put on a sad expression the moment he'd come downstairs from his room at the Manor and hadn't wiped it off yet – his face was starting to ache.

Harry had even ignored the muted whispers of dislike and outrage that tiptoed after him as he went to the burial plot. He knew what the whispers were saying, even if he couldn't hear the words.

"What is Henry Lestrange doing at the funeral of Alastor Moody?"

"Is that Bellatrix's son?"

"How dare he show his face here! It was probably his mother who murdered Mad-Eye!"

They weren't making him angry, though. He was getting angry, though, at the fact that these people were saddened by Moody's death. He had been just as bad as a Death Eater – a murderer. Worse, in Harry's opinion – Death Eaters knew full well they were breaking the law, but Moody had fought in the 'name of the Ministry.'

What bullshit.

It made Harry want to kill him all over again, or at least kill another Auror, but he held himself back. This was a funeral, after all, he thought, with a wry smile to himself.

* * *

A week later, while Harry and Draco were eating their breakfast at the Potter table, two owls suddenly swooped into the kitchen. They both bore Hogwarts crested letters; the brown tawny flew to Harry, while the other swooped down on Draco.

"I bet those are your O.W.L. results," Lily commented, pouring Jason a glass of juice. "Go on, open them."

Harry didn't need Lily to tell him to open it, but he did, surprisingly eager to see what he'd gotten.

It was no surprise.

_ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL RESULTS _

_Pass Grades: Outstanding (O) _

_Exceeds Expectations (E) _

_Acceptable (A) _

_Fail Grades: Poor (P)_

_Dreadful (D)_

_Troll (T)_

_HENRY AETON LESTRANGE HAS ACHEIVED:_

_Ancient Runes: O_

_Arithmancy: O_

_Astronomy: O_

_Charms: O_

_Defence Against the Dark Arts: O_

_Herbology: O_

_History of Magic: E_

_Potions: O _

_Transfiguration: O _

Grinning, Harry held the paper out to Draco. "Let me see yours," he ordered. Draco looked at Harry and wordlessly handed over his own.

It was similar to Harry's, but Draco had actually gotten an _O_ in everything. Harry felt a small surge of competitiveness at the fact that Draco had beaten him, even if it was Hogwarts.

Smirking slightly, Draco handed Harry's back to him. "Nice," he said simply, before taking a bite of his breakfast.

* * *

Harry and Draco were in the Potters' library several days later, looking at the books when the door suddenly opened. James was standing there, a broom over his shoulder.

"Do you two want to play Quidditch?" he asked simply.

The two cousins exchanged a look. They'd been trapped inside forever it seemed and the possibility of Quidditch, even with the Potters, was too tempting. "Sure."

It only took a few minutes for them to get ready and then headed out to the lawns where James and Jason already were.

Harry and Draco had just dressed in their Quidditch robes, but Harry had borrowed a pair of Draco's Slytherin ones. James was wearing reddish ones, but they weren't Gryffindor. Jason, however, was wearing Gryffindor robes.

"Slytherin vs Gryffindor, I suppose?" James asked, laughing.

The boys said nothing, although Draco and Henry glanced at each other.

"We'll just play with a Quaffle because there are only four of us," James continued, tossing the large ball up in the air and catching it again. "We'll have this side, you have that one," James said, gesturing to two different ends of the pitch.

The three boys nodded and everyone mounted their brooms. Once in the air, James tossed the ball to Draco.

"You guys start."

Draco looked to Henry and wordlessly tossed him the ball. Harry shot ahead on his Firebolt.

James caught up to Harry easily, but before he could even swat the Quaffle away, Harry had passed it to Draco and Draco was now zooming towards the goal.

It was an easy goal for Draco because James had stayed near Harry to guard him, and Jason had little skill as a Chaser.

The game continued for about an hour, in which Harry and Draco had scored about seven times and the Potters had scored four times, three of those by James. Jason's one goal had been really pathetic, as both Harry and Draco had been distracted. They'd been trying to get the Quaffle away from James when he'd passed it to his son, who had gleefully flown down the field and scored.

Only once the two Potters called out loudly and admitted defeat, did the game end, with the final score 80 to 40. If there had been more players and if they'd played with Bludgers and a Snitch, Harry was sure the game's score would've been much higher.

* * *

That night at dinner, James tried to keep up the good fun that they'd been having on the Quidditch field, but he failed. Henry and Draco just looked at him scornfully and didn't answer his questions.

Jason was highly annoyed that James was even trying to talk to them – it was bad enough that his mother had invited them to sit at the table with them at mealtimes!

James dropped the topic eventually and started up one that completely left out Henry and Draco. They didn't seem bothered by this at all – both of them finished their meals and got up to leave.

Lily watched them with a small scowl on her face, but she said nothing, and looked back to James, who was talking about work.

As Jason attacked his supper with renewed force, he thought that he just wanted this summer to be over.

* * *

It was the first time that Draco had been out of the grounds and the second for Harry, although Moody's funeral hardly counted. He'd been stuck with the Potters at all times and there had been no freedom there.

On the day of the funeral, with the house to himself, Draco had managed to Floo call his mother and had told her about their summer with the Potters. Narcissa had promised to tell her sister and Draco had told Harry that Bellatrix would meet them in a small pub down Knockturn alley at two o'clock that afternoon.

Harry didn't ask how Draco had arranged all this – he really didn't care, as long as he got to see Bellatrix.

They'd arrived at Diagon Alley at around 12 and stuck with Lily and Jason for almost two hours, before Harry called out, "We're going to Madam Malkin's. See you in an hour."

Lily looked surprised, but they were out of ear shot before she could say anything against it.

* * *

The Beetle's Back was a dark, dingy pub and Bellatrix hated it – it was worse than the Hog's Head.

But, it was in Knockturn Alley and therefore a safe place for Henry, Draco and herself to meet up.

She had only waited about ten minutes before Henry and Draco entered the pub. She was disguised as an old woman again, but Henry recognized her and swiftly led the way over to her table.

They did the usual formalities – are you Bellatrix Lestrange, what is your favourite colour, etc, and once they were sure of her identity, the two boys sat down.

"_Muffliato_," Henry said softly, before anyone else opened their mouth.

Bellatrix nodded approvingly at her son. "How are you?" she whispered, still speaking softly even with the spell cast.

"Fine," Henry said darkly. "Especially because we're staying with the Potters for summer break," he said, speaking in a sarcastic tone. "Just amazing."

Bellatrix, for once, ignored his cheek. "How are they treating you?" she demanded. "Because you are my son?"

"That's just it!" Henry said loudly. "They treat me normally, as if they don't care at all!" He shook his head, disgusted.

"I was so furious when I found out," Bellatrix said, shaking her own head. "I killed the man who told me," she confessed, letting out a little smile.

Henry and Draco smiled lightly, but when Henry continued, his tone was still dark and irate. "Mother, I don't understand the Light side. They forgive _everyone_ ... how on earth do they expect to win?"

"By exactly that, Henry," Bellatrix said. "Love." She spat the word. "It will not work ... Dumbledore is too much a fool to realize it though." She shook her head, and then smiled brightly. "But no matter – it is good for us. Good that they are idiots." She paused and then said, lowly, "The Dark Lord is changing tactics."

"What?" Draco and Henry both said together, both looking alert.

Bellatrix nodded. "Yes. We have too many Death Eaters and supporters in Azkaban and under the watch of the Ministry." She lowered her voice once more and said, "He's switched his focus from the Ministry and is now trying to get everyone out of Azkaban."

"You can't break out of Azkaban," said Henry automatically.

Bellatrix grinned and whispered, "Anything is possible when you're the Dark Lord."

"But – but what about the Dementors?" Draco demanded. "You can't get past them."

"I don't know if you were there," Bellatrix said slowly, thinking back to a conversation she'd had with the Dark Lord a few months ago. "But the Dark Lord was saying that he was surprised the Dementors hadn't already joined him and they soon will – we have more to offer than the Ministry does."

"That's true," Henry said, begrudgingly. "But still. I don't see how he's going to do that, even if he is the Dark Lord. No one has ever escaped Azkaban before."

Bellatrix smiled. "You're young still, Henry. One day, you'll see all the wonders that Dark magic can do."

Henry flushed. "I know what it can do," he snapped. "I was taught by the Dark Lord himself."

Bellatrix smiled again, but this time it was a very sad smile. "I wish you could come home," she said. "You too, Draco."

"I wish we could too," Henry said, sounding very glum. "I hate it at the Potters – they're too fake. They stop talking when we come in and give us dark looks, but then smile to our faces and treat us with the greatest respect. I'm sick of it – why don't they just come out and say that they hate us, hate having us there?"

"Too honourable," Draco muttered, darkly. "They think they're helping us, Henry. Dumbledore believes that we're 'good' now, so it's no wonder that he sent us to the Potters. They're practically the Light side's poster family. Son murdered by You-Know-Who, but they still go on, still offer forgiveness to the Dark side. It's sickening." He shook his head, as if he couldn't stand the thoughts anymore.

Bellatrix listened to her nephew and son with dark eyes. Finally, she spoke. "When Longbottom is dead and the Dark Lord has control over the country, you can kill the Potters. They'll be among the first to go – the Dark Lord will, I'm sure, appreciate the irony of my family killing Harry Potter's family."

Henry and Draco both smiled at her words and then they seemed in a lighter mood, but they did still speak of what they had been doing at the Potters with a dark undertone.

"We beat them at Quidditch," said Draco. "Eighty to forty, wasn't it?"

Henry nodded. "Yeah."

Bellatrix smiled wryly. "Too bad the Quidditch pitch isn't the battlefield."

* * *

Dumbledore had been troubled by the Potters' news ever since they'd told him. A Map that could not lie claimed that Harry Potter, the one who was to have saved them, was alive and well at Dumbledore's own school?

Dumbledore was brilliant, but he didn't pretend that he knew everything about Hogwarts. There were many ghosts around the school that he didn't know and so, following Jason's suggestion, he checked up with the ghosts.

"'arry Potter? 'Ho's dat?"

"_I've_ never seen a Harry Potter around here and _I _would've, so there must be no Harry Potter around here."

"Harry Potter? Isn't that the son of Lily and James? The one that Bellatrix murdered? You think he's here, Albus. You're going round the bend!"

"He's not a ghost, Albus!"

"There's no Harry Potter around here."

The ghosts were adamant and even after asking several portraits, Dumbledore had to admit that there was no ghost Potter wandering around the school.

But what else could it be?

Dumbledore himself had been there when Harry Potter had been buried in the small cemetery in Godric's Hollow and seen Lily and James' anguish at their son's death.

They had buried Harry. How could he still be alive?

The Map must lie. There was no other way. He drew it from his Cloak and set out to investigate it. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good," Dumbledore said, smiling as he did so.

Immediately, the Map sprouted from his wand to reveal a blueprint of the school, as if Rowena Ravenclaw had drawn it herself.

Words suddenly appeared on the Map and, fascinated by it, Dumbledore read them.

"_Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs_

_Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers_

_Are proud to present_

_THE MARAUDER'S MAP"_

Chuckling to himself, Dumbledore continued to glance over the Map. Once he'd looked over it, he drew his wand and tapped the Map.

He tried all the spells he could think of: a lying test (one they used on students during exams), a cheating spell, and all other things that could reveal whether the Map lied or not.

As it turned out, the Map passed all of the tests. Frustrated and annoyed, Dumbledore sighed, folding up the Map and clearing it.

Well, then if that was the only way ... Harry Potter must still be alive.

But who was he?

* * *

A/N: Please review!


	17. The Return

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! There's action in this chapter! Very long chapter, too! 42 pages in Word! I hope that all the questions you had from the last one will be answered in this one!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to the wonderful JK Rowling.

**Chapter Seventeen – The Return**

Two days before school began, Dumbledore arrived at Potter Manor. Henry and Draco had gone out to pass the Quaffle after dinner and Jason had invited Melinda over.

Dumbledore, Lily and James settled themselves at the kitchen table, both Potters anxiously wringing their hands together.

The old Headmaster took a long time to gather his thoughts. He drew from his cloak the Marauder's Map and placed it on the table. "I examined your Map, James, and I found that you are correct – it cannot lie."

Lily and James exchanged a look, both of their eyes starting to alight with hope.

"I explored all logical means that there could possibly be, but have found that all logic has escaped me." He paused. "There is good reason to believe," he began, talking clearly and slowly, "that Harry is still alive."

James let out a whoop and Lily's smile lit up the whole room.

"How, Dumbledore?" she demanded, her voice still hesitant with hope.

Dumbledore shrugged. "I have no idea, Lily. We buried Harry, I know we did. But, we must've buried an imposter."

"An imposter?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Perhaps before Bellatrix arrived that evening, someone had stolen into the house and switched Harry with the child you buried, glamouring them to look like Harry."

"Oh, Albus. Someone might've switched our Harry with another child?" Lily said, sounding shocked. Her hand went to her mouth in horror.

"I don't know, Lily," Dumbledore said, his voice quiet. "It may have been someone older, who died and was transfigured into a baby or, perhaps, not even a human at all."

The table fell silent at that, all three of their thoughts whirring.

"Who would've done this?" Lily demanded. "Stolen our child and raised him as someone else?"

Dumbledore didn't point out that this thief had saved Harry's life, just suggesting, "Perhaps it was Peter?"

James snarled at the name and Lily flinched violently. Nevertheless, Dumbledore continued, "He was here Hallowe'en night, was he not? He was the last one, other than the Death Eaters, to see Harry alive."

"Peter's a rat, Albus," James said coldly. "Literally. And, besides, he was working for Voldemort then and probably still is, if he's alive." James snorted. "I knew Peter, Albus. He wasn't brave, certainly not enough to lie to Voldemort. There would be no way that he could muster up the courage to steal away the boy Voldemort wanted dead. No way in hell."

"But, he had enough courage – although, that word does not fit this context – to betray you in the first place," Dumbledore pointed out.

"That wasn't courage!" James roared, slamming his fist onto the table. "That was cowardice!"

Lily put out a hand and rested it on James's arm. "James," she said softly, "Please. Albus is only trying to help."

James swallowed. "If Peter had true courage, he would've stood up for his friends, even against Voldemort," he said, his voice carefully controlled. "Like I said: cowardice."

Dumbledore and Lily said nothing.

James took a deep breath and then said, looking slightly ashamed. "You're sure then, Albus? About Harry? We – we can't lose him again."

Dumbledore's eyes were sad. "I know, James. But I am sure."

"But, _how_ can you be sure?" James demanded, getting riled up again. "How are you sure that the boy we buried wasn't Harry?"

"As I said, James, I've checked all the logical explanations. The ghosts do not know of a Harry Potter ghost at the school, the Map cannot lie –"

"And we're not exhuming the grave, James," Lily said flatly, at James's expression. "I don't care who it is – we're not digging up the resting place of a human being." She looked to Dumbledore. "There must be another way to be sure?"

The Headmaster nodded. "Of course there is. When we find Harry, we can do a simple blood exam to tell whose child he is."

"We should've done that before we buried Harry," James said, bitterly.

"Why would we have, though?" Lily asked, quietly. "There would've been no reason for that then. He looked like our Harry and we all thought it was him." She turned to Dumbledore and took a deep breath. "You think ... you think he's at Hogwarts, Albus?" she whispered. "I might've taught him?"

Dumbledore took a few moments to answer that. "It is possible, Lily," he said finally. "But, I seriously doubt that your Harry is wearing his biological face. Whoever took him that night will not be sane to allow him to walk around, looking like a Potter."

Lily and James nodded.

"If he is at Hogwarts, it is likely he is in his sixth year, as that it would be where he would be now anyways. He, however, may have been sent in a year ahead of himself, or a year behind. We cannot know for sure."

"Could he have graduated last year?" Lily asked worriedly, her thoughts clearly on the seventh years from the year before.

Dumbledore frowned. "I doubt it, Lily. He would've stood out, being the obvious youngest and I don't remember any student being particularly immature or out of their element. He is likely going into either his fifth, sixth or seventh year in September. My guess is also that he is not of the well known magical families. Everyone would question the sudden appearance of a one year old child in one of those families just after Harry's murder."

"Could he have been raised by Muggles?" James questioned.

"Muggles wouldn't have kidnapped Harry, James," Lily snapped. "For one thing, they'd be unable to glamour a body."

"I agree, Lily," Dumbledore said. "It is highly unlikely that Harry was kidnapped by Muggles."

"He could've have been kidnapped by a wizard and then left at a Muggle household," said James, trying to defend his suggestion.

"But, then, Harry wouldn't be under a glamour," Dumbledore pointed out. "And, it is apparent that he is. A powerful glamour, one to hide an entire body, would have to be repeated frequently. It might even be the Polyjuice Potion, but there have been no reports of stolen items from the Potions cupboards."

"He could've gotten his own supplies," James said, still adamant.

"From where?" Dumbledore asked, softly. "All packages coming in and out of the castle are monitored and no Polyjuice Potion ingredients, as far as I know, have ever been detected. The items wouldn't keep for more than a few weeks anyways."

James stared at Dumbledore, trying to think up something else, but he couldn't find what he was looking for in his mind. Defeated, he frowned and slumped back in his seat.

Lily was staring at her hands, not even looking at them nor listening to their conversation. "Do – do you think he knows who he is?"

"I sincerely doubt it, Lily," Dumbledore admitted sadly. "If he was, he would've reached out to you, I am certain, because you are his mother. He probably doesn't even know he is under a glamour."

They fell into silence again and then James said, "Say that Peter really did take him. Who did we bury, then?"

"We may never know," Dumbledore said. "It could be anyone. My guess is that the child we buried as Harry had died before being brought to Godric's Hollow, before Bellatrix arrived. She probably assumed that Harry was sleeping and so cast the spell anyways."

James and Lily both shuddered at the thought and Lily quickly asked, "How do we figure out who he is? Go through all the students?"

"No," Dumbledore said, shaking his head. He paused – he was about to reveal one of Hogwarts' most secretive secrets: the list. "Every July, I receive a list of all the students who were to enter Hogwarts the next year, but sometimes it makes mistakes. Sometimes names are left off because the parents couldn't decide on a name at the time of birth and so they must be added when the Ministry's officials report to me about odd magical events in communities. Sometimes even magical names are left off – a mere quirk in the list, but still that is where we should start."

The two Potters nodded, but Lily still seemed to have a problem with this.

"Albus, Hogwarts is a huge school. It will be impossible for just us to try to find out who he is."

"I would, of course, ask the other teachers to be on the lookout," Dumbledore promised. "And, as I am looking for a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, I was thinking that it could be someone you trust and could depend on to be on the lookout as well."

"Absolutely not," James said, obviously thinking that Dumbledore meant him. "Jason would kill us if both his parents taught at his school."

"No, I wasn't thinking of you, James," Dumbledore said thoughtfully, smiling slightly. "I was thinking that perhaps Sirius might like the position? He is, after all, out of a job and perhaps it would be good for him?"

James was staring at Dumbledore, with his mouth hanging open. "You want Sirius Black to be a teacher?" He burst into laughter at the thought. "Sirius Black? Seriously?" James snorted at his own joke.

Lily was also amused, but she said, "That is a good idea, Albus. Sirius knows the school better than anyone ... other than the Weasley twins, of course. He's also a really good dueller ... getting out of Voldemort's own house. He'd be great."

"He'd be great all right," James admitted, still grinning with mirth. "But, good luck trying to get _him _to agree to teaching."

* * *

Finally, school was about to begin and Harry was, strangely, excited to return to Hogwarts. He wasn't excited about the lessons, no way, but the fact that he wouldn't be with the Potters 24/7 and he'd get to continue his mission for the Dark Lord.

Lily had already departed for the school, so James dropped Harry, Draco and Jason off at Platform 9 ¾ at just before eleven o'clock.

Draco and Harry didn't linger to say goodbye, or even a thank you, just followed the hurried instructions James had given them on how to get onto the platform.

They ran through the barrier at full speed, and nearly ran straight into the Hogwarts Express train on the other side. They received askance glances from the other witches and wizards on the platform, but Harry paid no attention to them.

Harry led the way onto the train. They'd just found a compartment when the train started its way out of the station. The country side was already whirring by as he settled into a seat; Draco hesitated by the door.

"I'm going to find Daphne," he said simply. "I told her I'd sit with her on the trip to school in June."

"Oh," Harry said, surprised. "Well, I'll come with you then." He started to get up from his seat, but Draco's voice made him sit down.

"No," he said, sharply. "You stay here."

"Why?" Harry demanded, a little annoyed.

"Because I don't want you to come with me," Draco said, rolling his eyes.

"Why not?" Harry said, closely echoing his words from mere moments ago.

"I don't want you to come with me," Draco repeated. "Honestly, Henry, it isn't that hard to understand." He smirked.

"Well, why don't you enlighten me?" Harry snarled, getting to his feet. He hated when Draco treated him like a simpleton.

Draco looked at Harry with cold eyes. "Fine. Here it is." He took a breath and said, "You're turning soft, Henry."

"_What_?"

"You heard me." Draco's voice was ice.

Harry was starting to get very, _very _annoyed. "How am _I _going soft?" he demanded. "If anything –"

"You went to Moody's funeral!" Draco said indignantly. "You're friends with Granger –"

"So are you!" Harry said loudly.

Draco just laughed. "Please. I'm not friends with a _Mudblood_." He shook his head in dark amusement and continued, "You two don't even seem like friends ... it's something _more_."

"_Excuse me_?"

"You heard me," Draco said coldly. "I'm not stupid, Henry, no matter what the Dark Lord may think."

"That's what this is about?" Harry demanded.

Draco laughed coldly. "That's what it's always been about." He shook his head, still smirking. "You just don't get it, do you, Henry? You're the favourite. You're Bellatrix's son. Naturally, he likes you. He doesn't trust my father and as a result, I'm always second best to you."

Harry stared at his cousin, open mouthed. "Draco –"

"But, not anymore. You can hang around with Granger and Weasley and _pretend_ to get close to Longbottom just to kidnap him later, but I don't believe it. I don't believe it for a second." He turned sharply and stormed out of the compartment, dragging his heavy trunk with him.

Harry sat in shocked silence, but he didn't have any time to think about his cousin's revelation. The door was soon filled again by the form of Neville Longbottom, Ron Weasley hovering behind him. "Hey, Henry. Mind if we sit?"

Harry was in no mood to deal with neither Longbottom nor Weasley, but he was still a Death Eater on a mission, with or without his cousin. "Yeah, sure," he said darkly, pulling his trunk to one side to let the two boys clamber in.

Neville and Ron stored their own trunks on the shelves above and were just about to put Henry's up as well, when the door was once more filled with someone's body.

Hermione Granger stood there, her eyes dark with fury. She looked straight past Neville and Ron to Harry.

She entered without asking permission, stomping over to him.

"I need to talk to you," Hermione snarled at him, grabbing his arm. She caught him off guard, so she was actually able to pull him to his feet, but as soon as he realized what was going on, he yanked his arm out of her grasp.

"About what?" he asked coldly.

"It's about our little project last year," she said, her voice soft and sweet. "Let's have a chat."

* * *

James was right – it had been quite an effort to get Sirius to agree to teach, even with the knowledge that Lily and James had shared with him. But, once Dumbledore mentioned that meant he could give detentions to Slytherins, Sirius seemed happier and more agreeable to the idea.

He'd accepted and was currently sitting with Dumbledore and the rest of the teachers in the staff room.

Snape hadn't been all that pleased to see Sirius, but he'd so far kept his mouth shut. Lily could tell he was itching to murder Sirius in his sleep for getting the Defence Against the Dark Arts job over him.

"I'd like to begin this meeting by welcoming our new Defence teacher, Sirius Black," Dumbledore announced, clapping politely for Sirius. The other teachers followed suit, though Snape only brought his hands together once, before he stopped.

"Nice to meet you all," Sirius said, winking at Professor Sinistra. She blushed, but her eyes immediately flicked away, focusing on Dumbledore.

The Headmaster cleared his throat and then said, "Now, on to more pressing issues." His eyes flickered once to Lily, who nodded. "As you are all aware, on Hallowe'en 1981, Harry Potter was murdered by Bellatrix Lestrange."

The other teachers nodded and some murmured quiet assent. Several looked to Lily to see her reaction, but she stayed stone faced.

"In light of some new evidence, we have discovered that, in fact, Harry did not die that night."

"_What_?" said about half the teachers in the room, all of their mouths dropping open. Snape sat up a little straighter, his eyes confused.

"Albus –" began Professor Sprout, looking rather mollified.

He held up a hand. "Please, Pomona. Let me finish." He took another deep breath and said, "Harry's name was seen on a Map, a Map that cannot lie. I performed all the necessary tests to try to disprove it, but I was unable to. He is still alive, somewhere."

"But, Albus – I was at Harry's funeral!" protested McGonagall. "As were you!"

"Yes, Minerva, I was. And that is exactly why this is so disturbing to me. We buried someone under the name Harry Potter and we have no idea who that was."

Professor Trelawney gasped, her hands fluttering up to her face in horror. "You buried someone under the wrong name? Oh, no, you have no idea the wrong that has been done in the universe –"

"Sybil, please," McGonagall snapped. She turned back to Dumbledore. "Albus ... Albus, where is he?"

"We don't know," Dumbledore admitted. "At least not at the moment." He cleared his throat and said, "But, as the Map showed Harry's name twice during the school year here at Hogwarts, we can assume that he will be returning this year on the train."

"We've taught him?" asked Professor Snape sharply.

"Most likely," Lily said, speaking for the first time; everyone's eyes whirled to look at her. "But Albus suspects that he is probably under a heavy glamour and doesn't know who he really is. If he is going here –" she smiled wistfully – "then he would be in sixth year, but could probably pass for a fifth or seventh year as well."

"How will we know who he is?" demanded another of the teachers. "He could be anybody!"

"Harry, as a baby, had the same emerald eyes as Lily," Dumbledore said. "Likeliness is that he would still have those eyes."

"I've never seen anyone with eyes like that other than Lily's," said Minerva, frowning. She paused and said, "You're sure, Albus? A hundred percent sure?"

"Yes." Dumbledore's voice was firm. "I would not bring this up if I was not." He sighed. "I believe that Harry is under a glamour and the only thing that we know for sure about him is that he has green eyes."

"You can change eyes with a glamour as well," Minerva pointed out.

"I know," Dumbledore said. "But glamours do need to be replenished, especially those in regards to eyes. As I'm sure you know, Minerva, eye glamours are particularly tricky to keep up for long periods of time, and it will probably be our best bet at finding out who Harry is masquerading as." He shrugged, an out of character motion for him. "It is not a very good clue, but it is our only one." Dumbledore stood and said, "The students will be arriving soon. Let's get ready for them and what will likely prove a troubling year."

* * *

Hermione had dragged Harry out into the hallway and marched down towards the end where the door opened to the next train car.

She opened her mouth, but Harry held up a hand to silence her. "Before you say anything which would only end up with you dying because of the Unbreakable Vow, let me cast a charm so we can speak more freely."

Hermione glared at him, but she didn't say anything against this.

Harry pointed his wand at the ceiling and said, "_Muffliato_." As soon as he lowered his wand, she started yelling at him.

"You murdered Moody? Our teacher? Why? What is wrong with you? He did nothing wrong to you! You _murdered _him! And I helped! What is wrong with you? _You're a murderer_!"

"Now, let me get this straight," Harry said, slowly, smirking. "Are you mad because we killed him or that you were involved?"

She was momentarily speechless and then snapped, "That you killed him, of course. _How _could you?"

Harry laughed. "Have you forgotten who I am over the summer, Granger?"

"Oh, I know exactly who you are," she snapped. "I should've just told Dumbledore and died_ myself _instead of you murdering an innocent –"

"Moody wasn't innocent!" Harry exclaimed. "Are you kidding? He's murdered several Death Eaters! I've lost people because of him! He burned down the Dark Lord's house –"

Hermione actually laughed out loud, though it wasn't her usual laugh of amusement. "Actually? That's why you killed him? He burned down a _house_?"

"It wasn't just anyone's house," Harry spat. "And, are you deaf? That's not all he did. He killed people. But, I guess you think that crimes are just crimes when they're against the good guys, right? I figured."

"I didn't say that at all!" Hermione said, looking stung. "I said it was wrong to kill him –"

"Why?" Harry demanded. "Why was it wrong?"

She just gaped at him. "In case you weren't aware, murdering someone is considered _bad_," she said finally, her eyes wide.

Harry gasped. "Really? I never knew that –"

Her eyes were still wide when she said, "You feel no remorse for killing him? None?"

Harry laughed out loud. "Of course not! He deserved to die!"

"For burning down a house?" Hermione whispered, horrified.

"That's not all he did!" Harry said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Are you not listening to me? He killed Death Eaters and sent several to prison!"

"That's where they belong!" Hermione shouted. "You murder people in cold blood!"

"I can't believe you, Hermione," Harry shouted back at her. "You're a part of this world, you've seen the Aurors – they're just as bad as us."

"They'd never kill a person on purpose," she whispered again, her voice still quiet and horrified.

"Really?" Harry spat. "Oh, I suppose that's what you think. Well, let me tell you something –_ they have_."

"Who?" she demanded. "Name one person."

"My father," Harry said shortly. "I never even knew him. Some Aurors killed him when I was only a year old. So, before you go accusing Death Eaters of being evil, take a look around at who you have fighting for the 'Light' cause."

She opened her mouth, her brown eyes full of horror and pity, but Harry had enough of this conversation. He turned away sharply and back down the corridor.

He stormed back to the compartment where Neville and Ron instantly fell silent as he entered.

Harry didn't speak to either of them the entire remainder of the trip, but they both seemed to understand that he and Hermione had had a fight.

The trip was long, longer than it had been last June, and Harry was starving by the time that the train pulled into Hogsmeade Station.

"Leave your stuff here," Neville said, as Harry reached for his trunk. "The staff at the station brings it up to the school for us."

"Really?" Harry said, surprised. "Oh."

As Harry stepped out onto the platform, he realized he had no idea where he was going. Unsure of what to do, he followed Neville and Ron through the crowd, leading him towards a large open carriage, with two skeleton horses pulling it. Thestrals.

Harry had seen them last year when he'd arrived with Draco that first night and Professor Potter had taken them up to the school. He'd never really understood why Hogwarts kept such frightening creatures around – was Dumbledore trying to scare his students?

A blonde haired girl was sitting in the carriage already, reading an odd looking magazine upside down.

Harry gave her a look, but Neville nudged him and he shook his head. Shrugging, Harry climbed up, sitting down beside Neville. Ron gave him a withering gaze and sat, awkwardly, beside the girl.

"Why does Hogwarts have Thestrals?" Harry asked, thoughtfully.

"What?" Ron asked, confused.

"The horses," Harry said, pointing them out. "Why does Hogwarts have them?"

"Horses?" Ron asked, sounding annoyed. "What horses?"

"They're called Thestrals, Ron," said the blonde girl, looking up over her magazine. She had rather large, dreamy grey eyes and her blonde hair hung in weak curls around her thin face. Against her pale skin and dangling on her ears were the oddest earrings Harry had ever seen – where those radishes? "I'm Luna, by the way," she added, looking at Harry.

"Hi," Harry said, still staring at her. "I'm, uh, Henry."

"Thestrals?" Neville questioned, nudging Henry again.

"The horses pulling the carriage. Why does Hogwarts have them?" Harry was getting annoyed that he kept having to repeat himself.

Neville and Luna shrugged, but Ron just demanded, "Why can't I see them?"

"Only people who have seen death can see them," Luna said dreamily. Henry nodded in agreement.

"Oh," Ron said, looking taken aback. He gave Henry a sharp look. "Well ..."

"Can you see them?" Harry asked Luna.

She nodded. "Yes."

"I can too," Neville said, his voice dark. "I've seen enough death to last me a lifetime."

No one knew what to say after that, especially not Harry.

The ride to the castle after that was awkward and so the four of them lapsed into silence. They arrived, the three boys hanging back as Luna skipped ahead of them, literally skipping up the stairs to the doors. Neville and Ron led the way up the stairs after Luna, Harry trailing behind them.

Once assembled in the Great Hall, Professor McGonagall set a tattered old hat on a stool in front everyone, striding away and returning with a bunch of nervous looking first years.

Harry had never been to a Hogwarts Sorting and he actually found it rather interesting. When it opened its brim and started to sing, he flinched and stared at the hat in wonder. He wondered briefly how they'd done that. When, however, Harry realized that the Sorting was going to take forever, he lost interest. By the time they'd gotten to the letter 'G', Harry was just ready to eat.

Finally, _finally_, though, the first years had been Sorted and after a quick word from Dumbledore, telling them to settle in, food appeared on the table.

The Welcoming Feast was just as good as it had been last year – more than enough food. A few minutes in, Ron asked, sounding more than a little curious, "You and Hermione have a fight?"

"I suppose," Harry said, cutting his steak with more force than necessary. "She's just being a girl. A stupid, stupid girl."

Neville choked on his food, coughing and laughing at the same time. "You're pretty harsh, Henry," he said, grinning.

Really? Thought Harry, darkly. I never would've guessed.

A few minutes later, the dinner plates cleared and pudding was served. Once Harry had helped himself to a piece of cake and eaten it too, the plates once more cleared and Dumbledore stood to address the masses.

"Welcome, old and new students, to another year at Hogwarts, full of excitement, fun and, of course, learning."

Several students laughed, although Harry didn't understand the joke.

"We begin, however, on a sad note. Because of untimely passing on of our previous Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher Professor Moody, Sirius Black will be filling the position."

Harry was so astonished that Dumbledore would really let Sirius Black, a known Order member that was wanted by Voldemort, to teach that the fork he was tapping slipped from his grip and clattered on the table loudly.

He straightened at the noise, as well as from the dark glares he received for interrupting Dumbledore and listened closely to what else the Headmaster was saying.

"I am sure you will all show Professor Black the utmost respect."

That's likely.

"In other news, our caretaker Argus Filch –"

Harry zoned out – if they were talking about caretaking, then Dumbledore really wasn't going to say anything more of importance. A few minutes later, everyone got to their feet and Harry knew it was time to move. Ron disappeared, as he was a Prefect, and so it was just Neville and Harry.

"Know the password?" Harry asked, as they started out of the Great Hall.

"It's 'Greensleeves'," Neville said. "Ron told me."

They walked up the marble staircase, Harry thinking of something to say. "When's the first Hogsmeade weekend?" he asked.

Neville shrugged. "Sometime in October, I think. The 16th, or something." He paused. "I don't think I'm able to go, though."

"Oh?"

He sighed. "Professor Dumbledore doesn't want me leaving the castle ... he doesn't think it's safe."

Well, Dumbledore knew more than he let on. "That sucks," Harry said, sympathetically. "Really."

"Yeah, but it's okay. I really don't mind. It's just an afternoon."

They reached the Tower and entered, the Fat Lady welcoming them back warmly (well, at least she welcomed _Neville _warmly. She ignored Harry completely.)

The Tower looked like it had last year – crowded, boring and Gryffindor themed. Neville remained in the Common Room, chatting with a few people he saw there. Harry continued on his way to the dorm room and flopped on his bed once he'd reached it.

He couldn't believe he was here for another year.

* * *

Oddly enough, the sixth years had Defence first thing the next morning, so Harry would get to see Black first thing.

Almost all the Gryffindors had passed their O.W.L's to get into the N.E.W.T. level class; only Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil opted to do something else instead.

Harry wasn't sitting with Draco, sitting instead with Neville and Ron. After the summer, Ron seemed to have cooled in his hatred towards Harry, but the case was not mutual. Harry still thought Weasley was an arrogant little boy who wanted everything his way and had to have it or he'd throw a tantrum. The train ride here had shown him that much.

It was the same classroom as last year, and five minutes into the class, Black appeared at the top of the stairs leading from his office.

"Welcome to Defence Against the Dark Arts, everyone," he said, smiling at the students as he descended the stairs. "My name is Professor Black –" here he paused and smiled, as if reliving some inside joke – "and Dumbledore hired me to be your Defence teacher for the year."

A few of the students started to whisper when he said his name. Finally, Ron put his hand up in the air and asked, "Sir, are you ... _the _Sirius Black?"

Black laughed. "I suppose I am," he said.

"Do you really have your own drawer of confiscated items in Filch's office?" Ron asked eagerly.

"Yeah, I do," Black said, grinning proudly. "Filch wasn't too pleased when he saw that I was here as a teacher. Nearly passed out."

The students laughed – apparently Black was somewhat of a legend around here.

"I'm _supposed_ to give you sixth years a long lecture about how much work the N.E.W.T.'s are and let me tell you – they are – but that seems pretty boring to me and you'll find out soon enough anyways from all your other teachers.

"So, this year," Black said, pacing the front of the class, "You're going to be learning a lot, but seeing as I've never taught before and never thought I would teach, we're just going to experiment." He clapped his hands. "Since I'm woefully unprepared, let's just take some notes about this course – that way I don't have to do anything."

Typical, Harry thought, digging through his bag to find a quill and parchment.

Black waved his wand and a set of instructions appeared on the board. "Go ahead," he said, lazily, sitting down at his desk, feet up.

Harry copied the notes, getting more and more annoyed at the stupidity of Hogwarts' education as he went. Last year had been bad enough, but he'd though that by N.E.W.T. level, they'd at least _try _to teach the students harder spells.

But, it seemed like that was never going to happen.

* * *

The following weekend was a Quidditch game, the first of the season. It was Hufflepuff vs. Ravenclaw, and Harry really had no intention of going to watch that.

Although both he and Draco, as members of their respective teams, were basically required to attend the games, both of them had skipped it.

Harry had been surprised when Draco had approached him; he'd basically ignored Harry all week, but whatever. Apparently, whenever Draco needed something from him, he expected Harry to just 'forgive and forget' the earlier things that had happened between them.

However, when Harry had heard what Draco wanted to do, he'd agreed. Draco thought that they should probably talk to the Dark Lord about what he wanted them to do with Neville and when would the best time be to do it. Calling him now was a perfect time as everyone was at the Quidditch game.

They were out at their tree and Draco was the one to call, as it had been his idea. Harry really had no desire to bring up Neville Longbottom and the fact that he was still alive to the Dark Lord himself.

Thankfully, Voldemort wasn't in a meeting and when he picked up the mirror, he looked, surprisingly, in a good mood.

"Ah, I've been meaning to call you," he greeted. "How was the summer with the Potters?" A smirk laced his features.

Both Harry and Draco shuddered. "Horrid."

"I can imagine," Voldemort said, dryly. "What did they do with you? Lock you up?"

"No, surprisingly," Harry said. "They let us have a free reign on mostly everything. Except we weren't allowed to leave the grounds. Oh, and Potter Manor is quite close to Riddle Manor, my lord. Only a few minutes away."

Voldemort's smirk deepened. "Is that so?" he said. "How very intriguing."

When Voldemort was quiet for a few moments, Draco spoke. "My lord, we were just calling you to ask what would be the best time for us to get Longbottom for you."

Voldemort frowned. "When I liberate the Death Eaters from Azkaban. Dumbledore may tighten security around Longbottom then, but the fear and panic will create an ideal situation for us. Within chaos, it is easier to conduct kidnappings than within calm." He smirked again. "You'll hear when Azkaban has been unshackled from the Ministry and from then we will plan further."

Voldemort paused and then said, "I even have reason to believe that perhaps some of the Aurors in the Ministry itself are turning to my side. Since Moody was killed and no one has claimed responsibility for his death, I am thinking that perhaps –"

"Oh," Harry said, before he could stop himself. "We know who killed Moody."

Voldemort's eyes snapped to Harry. "What?"

Draco looked terrified and was motioning for Harry to stop, but now that he had started and under Voldemort's pressing gaze, Harry had to speak. "It was us," he admitted, reluctantly. If he'd had more time to think up a lie, he would've done that. "We poisoned him –"

The effect on the Dark Lord was instantaneous. "You," he repeated, his eyes narrowing to slits. "You murdered Moody?"

"What Henry means to say –" Draco started, but was interrupted.

"Is that why Longbottom is not dead yet?" Voldemort asked, in a soft deadly voice. "You focused on Moody, an Auror that I care nothing about compared to Longbottom, instead of following the mission, the mission that any of my Death Eaters would've killed for? You have the great honour of bringing Lord Voldemort Neville Longbottom and _you fail to do it_? Complete loyalty and obedience is a requirement for all of Lord Voldemort's Death Eaters. Have you forgotten that so quickly? Dumbledore's brainwashing seems to have had a wonderful effect on the brains of such simpletons such as yourselves." The Dark Lord took a breath, but Harry and Draco didn't dare breathe at all. "Your stupidity and insubordination will be punished severely, once you are returned to my service." His voice rose several degrees; he was nearly yelling, "There will be no chaos for you to conduct a kidnapping. You are on your own; no other Death Eaters will assist you in this. You have failed Lord Voldemort and Lord Voldemort will not offer any aid to those who are failures to him."

There was a long silence, neither of the cousins daring to breathe.

"You have until Hallowe'en day to bring Neville Longbottom to me," Voldemort contiuned, his voice as icy as the Black Lake during winter. "No longer. If you fail, you will be killed. Lord Voldemort has no mercy for failures."

Harry had no doubt that Voldemort meant it. He nodded several times.

Voldemort still looked livid, but he took a deep breath and said, "Anything else I should be aware of, boys? Have you become a favourite of the teachers and started consorting with Mudbloods?" he spat the last word.

"No, my lord –"

"Hallowe'en," Voldemort reiterated. "No later." He flicked his hand and the mirror was suddenly only showing the two, pale, faces of Draco and Harry.

Draco immediately jumped to his feet. "Good going, Lestrange," he snarled. "You're officially an idiot."

Harry got to his feet as well, feeling his anger rise. "This is your fault, too, Malfoy –"

"No, Henry, it's not," Draco said, his voice almost as cold as Voldemort's had been. "You're not dragging me down with you. Not this time." He turned away and marched up to the castle, leaving a Harry that had never felt so alone behind him.

* * *

Tuesday was a non-visitor day at Azkaban – the perfect time for a rescue mission.

Bellatrix, feeling smug and honoured, was one of the six selected by Voldemort to go there and get the eight Death Eaters he wanted out, the others being Rabastan, Lucius, Dolohov, Yaxley and the werewolf Greyback.

Rabastan and Yaxley were in charge and responsible for coaxing the Dementors into joining Voldemort. Bellatrix had wanted this position, but she respected Voldemort's decision in choosing those two – both were skilled, charismatic speakers and proficient at the Patronus Charm.

It was impossible to Apparate out of Azkaban with the wards in place, but Dolohov, who himself had been briefly imprisoned there before joining the Dark Lord, knew that the offices of the "Azkaban Security Officials and Very Important Wizards" had open Floo networks.

Wands out and at the ready, Rabastan and Yaxley, accompanied by Dolohov and Lucius for added protection, entered the Floo first. They were going to speak with the Dementors first and then one would Floo call back for Bellatrix and Greyback to come. Bellatrix ignored Greyback completely for the ten minutes it took for the fire to blaze green and Lucius to appear to tell them to come.

Bellatrix went first, shouting, "Azkaban Prison!" as she did so. The Floo was as easy as walking for her and she strolled out at the correct gate with no problems.

She emerged from the Floo in an office. It would've been neat and tidy, except for the fact that there was blood smears everywhere and three dead bodies on the floor.

"Azkaban officials," Yaxley said, at her look. He looked paler than usual. "They had to be dealt with."

Bellatrix nodded. "Of course."

The moment she'd arrived in the room, her insides had gone all cold but she'd so far avoided looking for the Dementors. There were two in the room itself, both floating ominously near the door. Bellatrix was suddenly extremely unhappy and worried about Henry, but she tried to push those thoughts away. She was on a mission.

Greyback arrived after her, and then Yaxley spoke. He looked pale, and the other three did as well. Lucius looked a little ill, Rabastan had never looked so white and Dolohov's wand hand was shaking. After all, he had been here before.

"Let's go," Yaxley commanded, his voice tight.

The Death Eaters hurriedly followed him to the prisoner cells, but Bellatrix lingered behind to speak with Rabastan. "Did you do it?" she asked, eagerly. "Are the Dementors –"

"Yes," Rabastan said, shortly. "They are." He brushed past her and left the room.

She smiled, gleefully, but it was hard to keep that expression in Azkaban. It slipped away and she turned sharply, following her brother-in-law out.

The two Dementors that had been at the door were leading the trail of Death Eaters down the halls of Azkaban.

There were more Dementors lining the halls, but they did not approach the Death Eaters at all. Still, Bellatrix felt their coldness and hurried to catch up with the rest of the group.

They'd been walking for several minutes when they reached the first prisoner. It was an old man, curled up into a ball in the corner of his cell. He was muttering to himself and rocking back and forth. He kept say the name, "Amy," over and over again.

Bellatrix looked away.

A lot of the prisoners they passed were like that. Sitting huddled up, muttering and never looking up as the Death Eaters strode by.

Finally, the Dementors stopped gliding along. One of them raised a horrible looking hand and pointed it at the cell to the left.

"Jugson," said Yaxley, as if confirming it to himself. Bellatrix pushed her way to the front of the line and peered into the cell.

Jugson, who had been lying on a small bed, was just sitting up. His eyes, which were haunted, locked with Yaxley's. It took a few moments, and then he scrambled to his feet. "Yaxley?" he whispered. "What are you doing here?"

"Rescuing you," Yaxley said, his voice grim. He nodded to the Dementors, who swooped over. Jugson shrank back, but the Dementor was only opening the door.

The former inmate looked terribly confused. "But –"

"The Dark Lord has sent up specially to get you," Bellatrix said, loudly. "Do not complain."

"I was not complaining, Lady Lestrange," Jugson whispered. He fell silent and slowly stepped out of the cell, as if he expected the Dementors to Kiss him at any moment.

They did not, and so Jugson hurriedly stepped away from them, hiding behind Dolohov.

The Dementors continued on, releasing Amycus Carrow, his sister Alecto, Rosier and Nott in succession.

Once five were free, Dolohov, Greyback and Lucius departed to Floo them back. The rest continued on.

Barty Crouch Jr. was the next to be released. He looked the maddest of them all, having been singing to himself a horrible tune about a little girl out for a walk when a huge monster attacked her.

Crabbe was released next, but he was silent and stony, just like Bellatrix remembered him to be.

Finally, the last prisoner that Voldemort wanted out was a woman named Ophelia Black. Bellatrix knew of her – she had been Sirius Black's wife – but other than that, she didn't know the girl.

When the Dementors arrived at her cell, she was sitting on the floor, facing the wall. She was terribly thin, with lank brown hair that reached the floor from where she sat.

"Black," called Yaxley, just as he had for the other prisoners.

Ophelia didn't respond.

"Black," Yaxley said, louder.

She flinched and then, slowly, looked over her shoulder. Her blue eyes were dull, but a flash of recognition sparked in them and she got to her feet.

She limped over to the door, but stayed back several feet, away from the Dementors. She said nothing, just regarded the group with wide eyes.

"Open the door," Yaxley ordered the Dementor. It obliged, sliding a large, wrought iron key into a lock.

The door opened, and Ophelia carefully approached it. Once she saw that the Dementors weren't going to attack her, she took a step through the door.

But, as she stepped out into the hallway, one of the Dementors reached out and grabbed her. She screamed loudly and started to kick out in her terror.

"Help, oh, please help –"

Bellatrix pointed her wand at the Dementors, focusing hard on Henry and all the times they'd had together. "_Expecto Patronum_," she shouted. A white light burst from her wand, in the form of a panther. It dove onto the Dementor and the Dementor's hands instantly recoiled from Ophelia. Immediately, she came running to the crowd of Death eaters, tears streaming down her face.

The rest of the Dementors in the corridor had also retreated at the Patronus Charm, hissing.

The panther faded once the Dementors had all gone around the corner. "Th-thank you," whispered Ophelia, her voice as hoarse as if she hadn't used it for years.

Bellatrix didn't answer her, just turned away and led the rest of the group down the halls and back the offices.

The prisoners were Floo'd out, one by one. Greyback took Barty Crouch Jr., Rabastan Crabbe and Bellatrix took Ophelia.

Once she had arrived back in Riddle Manor and gotten her surroundings, she was aware that the Dark Lord was in the room, along with the rest of the Death Eaters who had come from Azkaban that day.

"Well done, Death Eaters," he spoke. "The Dark Lord is very pleased with you."

* * *

Everyone had only been in school for a month when the Dark Lord's success in liberating Azkaban hit the news. Harry had had a feeling that they would do it around this time of the year, when the weather on the sea wasn't that bad, and so he wasn't surprised that it had happened. However, everyone else was in complete shock.

"Did you hear about the breakout from Azkaban?"

"Eight high security prisoners!"

"How'd they even get passed the Dementors?"

"I heard that they had five other Death Eaters actually come and break them out and that the Dementors barely put up a fight!"

"What if the Dementors have joined You Know Who?"

"That's bullocks – right? Isn't it?"

No, Harry thought, as he shoved past the second year Ravenclaw, fretting to his friends. It was not bullocks. Why would the Dementors, when promised thousands of unhappy people, stay with the Ministry? Voldemort could provide them with whatever they wanted.

Harry, who was in a rather good mood, pushed through the usual crowd that blocked the way to Transfiguration, but unfortunately, someone crashed right into him.

"Watch where you're going, Potter," Harry spat viciously, shoving the boy out of the way and almost pushing him over.

He'd had enough of the idiot over summer break and no longer even pretended to tolerate the boy – he had bigger things to deal with that Jason freaking Potter. Whenever he showed his face, Harry removed himself from the room.

Potter had gotten the hint and didn't seem to care about it. But, currently, he had an angry expression on his face, just having turned back to face Harry and now blocking his pathway.

Irritated, Harry spat, "Got a problem, Potter?"

"Yeah, actually," Potter said, his eyes furious. He stared daggers at Harry for a few moments before Harry realized he wasn't going to say anything else.

"Well, spit it out," Harry commanded.

Several people in the hallway had stopped walking and were now looking at Potter and Harry with apprehensive eyes.

"You don't seem to have a problem with the news about the breakout from Azkaban," Potter said, accusingly, "In fact, you don't even look surprised."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Perhaps I don't show my emotions as easily as you do, Potter. Or, but maybe you've forgotten, I've actually _met _the Dark Lord – I know him and this isn't unexpected. The Dark Lord, to you, is perhaps just a scary story, told to you by your stupid Mudblood mother."

The crowd inhaled sharply, both for Harry's callous use of the word 'Mudblood' and also the fact that he had basically admitted he suspected Voldemort of doing something like this.

"Don't you dare insult my mother!" Potter shouted, whipping out his wand and pointing it at Harry. Harry could see that the boy was appalled that he would insult his mother after staying with them for two months.

Harry just laughed. "You gonna curse me, Potter? You're how old, twelve?"

There were a few muffled coughs of laughter; Potter flushed a deep red and shouted, "_Flipendo_!"

Harry had slid the spare wand that he kept in his sleeve at all times down to the base of his palm and he flicked it just slightly. Wordlessly, his shield came up and Potter's little spell rebounded easily, hitting a suit of armour against one of the walls, and just missing a few students. The armour promptly shot backwards, hitting the wall behind it with a _crack_.

"You do know that Flipendo is to push objects around, not to attack, right?" Harry said smirking, now pointing his wand at Potter.

Immediately, the little blond Bobbin that Potter was friends with drew her own wand and pointed it at him. Harry didn't even look at her. A few other people in the crowd also, tentatively, drew their own, but, unsure of whom to point them at, kept them lowered.

Jason, breathing heavily, shouted again. "_Rictusempra_!"

Once more Harry just whipped his shield up, and laughingly said, "The Tickling Charm? Really? Wow."Harry was now just incredibly amused, not annoyed at all. "Let me show you how the big boys fight," he said, smirking. "_Expelliarmus_!" Potter's wand went flying from his hand (he yelped in alarm) and into Harry's. Still smirking, Harry pointed Potter's wand back at him. It was a clever trick, one that the Death Eaters, particularly Rabastan, enjoyed. Having your own wand cast a spell on you (most often the Avada Kedavra when from a Death Eater) was highly amusing to the Death Eaters.

Harry, who knew it'd be bad if he killed Potter, just shouted another spell, albeit a Dark one: "_Decursus_!"

The spell hit Potter hard in the chest and he was sent flying backwards, at least six feet in the air and into the crowd of people watching.

Everyone screamed as Potter landed on a huge seventh year Gryffindor and crumbled to the ground.

"Jason!" Bobbin shouted in horror, running over to him and dropping her wand with a clatter. "Are you all right?" He was lying sprawled on the ground, moaning.

"Are you bloody insane?" Ron Weasley shouted from the crowd, pointing his wand at Harry.

Harry just smiled at Ron and that was enough of an answer. Weasley shuddered and looked away.

Harry briefly thought about what he was doing – this would not bode well for Longbottom, but it was too late to walk away now.

While Harry had been musing, Potter had gotten to his feet, wincing. He said, shakily, "You'll pay for that."

Harry made a gesture, as if to say 'bring it on', tossing his wand back to him.

Potter fumbled to catch it and had to grab it from the ground when he missed. Flushing, he shouted, "_Locomoter Mortis_!"

"_Tectum_!" Harry shouted back, conjuring up an inky shield that protected him like a bubble. Potter's spell hit this shield and promptly rebounded, twice as powerfully. Potter's legs immediately locked together and he fell over.

Weasley had had enough. He waved his wand at Potter, lifting the curse, and then pointed it at Harry. "You're finished, Lestrange."

Harry snarled at him. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that it was rude to interrupt a duel?" he hissed. "_Aer Absens_!" A jet of yellow light hit Weasley directly in the throat, making him stumble backwards.

For a second, the crowd looked confused – what had the spell done? Weasley looked just as confused, until suddenly, he started to grab at his throat: this was the suffocation spell and everyone turned to Harry in horror.

Seamus Finnigan, a Gryffindor boy in Harry's year, let out a roar of horror and ran over to Weasley. He shouted, "LIFT THE CURSE, YOU BASTARD!"

"You're killing him!" another voice shouted, sounding half hysterical.

To avoid the wrath of Hogwarts' students, Harry flicked his wand, lifting the curse on Ron. The boy immediately started to gasp for air and nearly fell over, but just stumbled back into the crowd.

Potter had gotten to his feet again and pointed his wand at Harry again, but Harry was too quick for him. "_Roegna_!" he shouted. What looked like lightening shot out of his wand, bright white and kind of zigzag like.

Potter screamed in agony as the lightening zapped him on his left forearm with a loud _bang_ that even made Harry wince slightly. There was a sharp, blinding flash, and once Harry could see again, he saw that Potter had fallen to his knees, clutching at his arm; he looked like he was about to curl into a ball on the floor.

"Jason!" Bobbin shouted, stepping forward and hurrying over to her friend. "What did you do to him?" Bobbin screamed, rounding on Harry. She looked positively mad. She raised her wand, but before she could say anything, a very loud voice interrupted her.

"MURDER IN THE HALLWAY! MURDER IN THE TRANSFIGURATION CORRIDOR!" shouted the voice of Peeves, Hogwarts' resident poltergeist. He bobbed close to Harry and said, "Ickle Lestrange is in trouble now!"

Harry swatted him away, and sent a quick jinx at the annoying twit, making Peeves jump out of the way.

"PEEVES!" shrieked the voice of Argus Filch. "What are you on about – murder in the hallway my – WHAT'S GOING ON HERE!" He pushed through the crowd and stumbled as he came to a stop at the sight before him.

Potter was moaning on the ground, Ron Weasley was being supported by Finnigan and another Gryffindor Dean Thomas, Bobbin had her wand pointed at Harry, and Harry was just standing there, smirking.

Filch's eyes went directly to Harry. "You –" he snarled, taking a step forward and shaking his hand at Harry.

"Me," Harry confirmed, a little amused.

Filch seemed to have no words. "What – what did you do?" His beady eyes travelled over the scene once more and then he shouted, "PROFESSOR MCGONAGALL! PROFESSOR SNAPE! PROFESSOR POTTER! PROFESSOR DUMBLEDORE! MURDER IN THE TRANSFIGURATION CORRIDOR!"

Breathing heavily now, Filch turned his attention to Potter, but seemed unsure of what to do. The Gryffindor was still lying on the ground, his moans had almost disappeared into sobs.

The first Professor to reach the scene was Professor McGonagall, who took one look at the scene and said loudly, "Everyone, get to your classrooms, immediately." At the tone in McGonagall's voice, everyone slowly turned away, shooting Harry frightened and horrified looks as they passed him. "Miss Bobbin, Finnigan, Thomas, Lestrange, all of you are to remain here," McGonagall said, as she hurried over to Potter, kneeling down beside him. She was quiet for only a few moments, before saying, shortly, "Send for Madam Pomfrey, Filch."

The caretaker nodded and hurried away, his cat curling around Harry's legs as she trotted after him. Harry suppressed the urge to kick her.

"Potter," McGonagall said, soothingly, "Potter, let me see your arm."

"No," Potter moaned, trying to pull away and cradling his arm to his chest.

Professor McGonagall gently pried his arm away from his body and sucked in her breath tightly at the sight of it.

Most of Potter's entire left forearm was raw skin, pieces of cloth from his robes stuck on the bloody skin. It looked like it had been burned badly, the edges of the burn a dark, almost purple, colour.

Bobbin choked back a sob at the sight of her friend's injury and Dean Thomas put his arm around her. Both of them shot Harry horrified looks. Harry was pretty impressed with himself; he'd learned that from the Dark Lord several years ago but had never really gotten the hang of it then. He smirked to himself. Well, it looked like he could do it perfectly now.

A few moments later, Professor Potter rounded the corner, her hair flying out behind her as she ran. She skidded to a stop as she saw her son on the floor and immediately, her hand went to her heart.

"Jason!" she cried, running over and dropping to his side. "Jason, honey, oh Merlin, are you all right?"

Potter nodded tightly and reached out for his mother's hand with his good arm. She grasped it tightly. Potter muttered then, "Don't call me 'honey'."

Lily laughed slightly and put her hand on his forehead, feeling his temperature.

Madam Pomfrey, the school's nurse, came up the hallway then, looking harried, followed by a few moments later by Filch. "What's going on, Minerva? Argus said –"

She stopped talking as she saw Lily kneeling next to her son and Potter's arm. Madam Pomfrey looked directly at Harry and asked swiftly, "What curse did you use?"

Harry was impressed. "The Roegna Curse," he said.

Professors McGonagall and Potter sucked in their breath, and Madam Pomfrey nodded tightly. "As I thought." She waved her wand and a stretcher appeared in the air next to her. "Jason," she said, kneeling down to Potter on the floor, "I know you're in a lot of pain, but I need you to stand up so we can get you to the hospital wing to heal your arm."

Potter nodded once, wincing at the pain. He let go of his mother's hand and slowly, cradling his injured arm to his chest, pushed himself to his feet, the two Professors rising with him. His eyes were disoriented, but as he focused on the stretcher, he shook his head. "No – no I can walk."

"Are you sure, Jace?" Lily asked, worriedly.

Potter nodded. He tried to take a step forward, but nearly collapsed, but was caught by a swift spell by Madam Pomfrey. She levitated him onto the stretcher and, blushing a bright red, Potter muttered, "Fine."

"Could you please fetch Severus for me, Argus?" Madam Pomfrey said, waving Potter and his stretcher down the hallway ahead of her, followed hurriedly by Lily.

Filch nodded eagerly and turned away, brushing past Harry hard as he passed him. Harry quickly pointed his wand at his shoulder, disinfecting it from Squib germs wordlessly.

Professor McGonagall had watched this, looking disgusted. She looked to Weasley and said, "Do you need to go down to the hospital as well, Weasley?"

"No –" Ron started.

"Yeah, he does," Finnigan interrupted. "Lestrange suffocated him!"

Everyone turned to look at Harry, who just stood there and stared back at them with defiant eyes.

"Well, come along, Weasley," said Madam Pomfrey, her voice dark. She ushered him forward and, shooting Seamus a look, Ron went to her. They started down the hallway behind Lily and Potter.

Professor McGonagall then turned to face Harry and said, flatly, "To my office. All of you."

The three Gryffindors nodded, shooting Harry another dark look. Professor McGonagall turned sharply and headed down the same direction that Filch had run to get Snape, her heels clicking dangerously on the floor. Bobbin, Finnigan and Thomas followed her, Bobbin sticking as near as she could to both McGonagall and Thomas, as if she was determined to get away from Harry.

Harry was the last of the four to round the corner and he spotted Draco, leaning against the opposite wall. Draco noticed Harry looking at him and slowly started to clap, his hands and posture ringing with patronization.

* * *

Professor McGonagall didn't speak to them at all until they reached her office. She still said nothing, just went to her own seat and left the Gryffindors standing in front of her desk. Harry dropped his bag down to his feet, as the heavy textbooks were making his shoulder ache.

She took off her glasses, placing them on the desk. She massaged her temples and then, finally, asked, "Why don't you tell me what happened?"

Bobbin recited the tale almost perfectly accurately, surprisingly actually saying that Potter had started the fight and Harry hadn't.

Professor McGonagall looked a little surprised, but, when none of the boys said anything to contradict Bobbin, she nodded tightly and then said. "Very well. Miss Bobbin, Mr Thomas, Mr Finnigan, you may go check on Mr Potter and Mr Weasley in the hospital wing."

The three named turned and left without another word.

It was only when he was alone with Professor McGonagall that Harry began to feel slightly apprehensive about what his punishment was going to be.

She immediately started talking; her voice quick and sharp, so fast that Harry only caught a few words: "– this is a very severe crime, Mr Lestrange. You should be very thankful that Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape can fix Potter's arm. Otherwise, you would be in much greater trouble than you are now. You will have two months of detention, starting tomorrow. It will be every night for the two months, including the mornings of Saturday and –"

"Saturday?" Harry said sharply. "This Saturday's the Quidditch game!"

McGonagall just stared at him coldly. "Yes, I am aware of that, Lestrange. Fifty points will also be taken away from Gryffindor."

"Fifty?" Harry snarled. He didn't care about the House point system, but _he _shouldn't be the reason that the House lost points. It wasn't _his_ fault. "I didn't even start the fight! What about Potter? He gonna get off stock clean?"

"Of course not. Mr Potter will also be getting detentions and points taken away, Lestrange," McGonagall said coldly.

Harry was disgusted. He refused to listen what McGonagall was saying for a few minutes and then caught: "– you attend Hogwarts now and Hogwarts doesn't stand for anything like this. Now your parents and Voldemort, who it is obvious you've known since your birth, obviously tolerated this kind of behaviour, we at Hogwarts will not –"

Harry flinched violently when she said the Dark Lord's name. His entire life, he had been taught that the name was too revered to be said, that the Dark Lord was too powerful to ever be addressed by anything as simple as a name.

"Then just expel me and send me back!" Harry shouted, interrupting McGonagall.

"No," said a voice from the doorway. Harry didn't even have to turn to recognize it.

Professor Dumbledore came into the room, his face clouded and sad with regret. "It would do no good whatsoever to send you back to the Death Eaters." He strode forward and stood facing Harry. After several minutes of silence, he finally spoke. "I'm disappointed in you, Henry."

That bewildered Harry – that was it? Disappointed? "What?" he said, stupidly.

Dumbledore said, "You come to Hogwarts with your cousin, claiming you want a new life, a life free of being a Death Eater, but then you attack Hogwarts students. "

Harry didn't even flinch. What did they expect from the son of Bellatrix Lestrange? That he'd go around, skipping, giving people hugs and handing out lollies?

"What happened from last year to this one?" Dumbledore inquired. "You were doing fine last year –"

Harry snorted; if only Dumbledore knew what Harry had been working on last year. "Maybe I'm getting sick of what you've deemed 'safe' for me," he said, interrupting Dumbledore. "I'm sick of having to attend a school where everyone hates me, having been Sorted me into _Gryffindor_ of all places and, oh, how could I forget – sending me to live with the Potters for the summer. _My mother killed their son_. Did _you_ forget?"

Dumbledore's eyes were like ice. "I am quite aware of that, Henry. I hoped spending time with the Potters, seeing who your mother had hurt, would help you see that Voldemort –"

Harry didn't want a lecture about the Dark Lord from Dumbledore of all people. "Maybe I'm just getting bored," Harry said loudly, speaking over the Headmaster. "I've already learned everything that you are teaching the students here."

"You came to me, Henry," Dumbledore said sharply, sounding annoyed. "Remember that."

The door suddenly burst open again and Lily Potter stood there.

For the first time, Harry saw a woman who looked furious and for a fleeting second, her rage showed in her eyes and reflected some of the madness that Bellatrix possessed. But, then it was gone, and she was just an angry Professor standing there. Her eyes focused on Harry and they darkened. "You!" she yelled, taking a step forward. "How dare you do that to my son!" she shouted.

"Lily, please –" Dumbledore began, reaching out to her, but she swatted him away.

"We open our home to you for the summer and then you return to school and do this?"

"Lily –"

"Hasn't your family done enough to hurt mine?" Lily hissed. "Your mother kills my son, and now you attack my other one! HOW DARE YOU!" Her wand was clenched in her hand and bright purple sparks shot out of the end.

Dumbledore stepped forward then and rose his wand. He didn't point it at Lily, but the gesture was enough.

Professor Potter took a deep breath and her eyelids fluttered in anger. She stepped back and then turned away, exiting the room with her fists clenched.

Silence descended on the room and then McGonagall spoke. "Report to my office tomorrow evening at seven o'clock for your first detention."

Harry nodded tightly and got to his feet. He retrieved his bag from the floor, but as he was leaving, Dumbledore spoke.

"The Sorting Hat chose Gryffindor for you, Henry – not I. It saw elements of that house – nobility, courage and chivalry in you –"

Harry didn't listen to any more of Dumbledore's bullshit. He waved his hand at the door, making it slam shut behind him as he left, it shutting right in Dumbledore's face.

* * *

Sirius was notorious for not giving any homework or making the students do very much written and that was a reputation that Sirius was proud of.

He'd just finished his last lesson of the day (teaching the third years about Red Caps) and was now off to relax in his office before dinner.

Today, he expected a relaxing day, not like yesterday when Lily had come running in, crying and furious. Lily had explained that Jason had been attacked by Henry Lestrange and sent to the hospital wing because of it.

At first, Sirius thought that she was exaggerating, but once he'd gone to see Jason in the infirmary, he'd known that she wasn't. Sirius was angry, _furious_ at Henry for doing this, but he wasn't surprised. Not at all. He was Bellatrix's son – what did they expect from him?

He took a deep breath, and then flopped down in the chair behind his desk. He looked at the desk and saw the Daily Prophet from yesterday still open.

Oh yes. The breakout.

Eight prisoners had gotten out.

Unbelievable.

Like the rest of the wizarding world, he was shocked that anyone could get out from that horrible place.

Honestly, Sirius didn't know why Voldemort had organized such a big effort to get only eight prisoners, including Sirius's own wife, out. Ophelia, besides being a spy for Voldemort, didn't seem like a particularly useful Death Eater.

The month after Ophelia had been captured he'd gone to visit her in Azkaban. That had been a horrible day – because of both the Dementors and having to deal with Ophelia. She'd barely spoken to him, only snapping at him to leave several times. He finally did so, gladly, and hadn't been back.

He didn't think on that day – living it once was enough. The only thing that cheered him slightly up at the thought of Ophelia being broken free was that at least she was out from that horrid place. He would never send anyone there – it was a punishment worse than death.

* * *

"Brilliant job, Lestrange."

"Now we're gonna lose the Quidditch match for sure."

"You take out yourself and Potter! Now we have to use Adrianna Smith!"

"_Thanks_ a lot."

Those were only a few of the comments Harry received the day when everyone found out that he couldn't play the Quidditch match the following weekend.

"Yeah, yeah," Harry said, as he walked through the corridors, shoving through the crowd. People seemed to love to stand in his way these days, just to annoy him. It was incredibly stupid and naive of them, Harry thought, purposely annoying someone who had just sent another student to the hospital for a week.

The only good that came out of this was that Harry was now left alone by the students. He'd been a source of constant interest because of who he was, friendly or not. Now, neither of the two groups wanted to talk to him at all.

Professor Potter was probably the worst – she was known for trying to get Harry to participate in the class, but for the next few days, she barely even looked at him.

Harry breathed in tightly and pinched the bridge of his nose, as someone else jolted in front of him and made him stop to avoid running them over.

_It wasn't his fault_.

And, to top it all off, Neville was also avoiding Harry. He'd heard what Harry had done to Ron and Jason, of course, and was apparently especially angry that Harry had hurt Ron. They were best friends and Harry had royally screwed up by attacking Weasley.

Draco hadn't spoken to Harry for days. They'd spoken briefly after the conversation with Voldemort, but it was already nearing the first weekend in October and they were nowhere near close to kidnapping Neville.

The Hogsmeade weekend was coming up and they'd have to somehow figure out a way to make sure that Longbottom was there – it was chaotic there and exactly what Voldemort had prescribed for a perfect kidnapping.

* * *

Five days after the now infamous Hogwarts duel and the evening before the Quidditch match, Jason had been released from the Hospital Wing. He felt a little guilty – after all he had started the fight, but Lestrange had gotten the brunt of the trouble from the students.

Jason was in just as much as trouble, if not more, as Lestrange was – two months of detention and fifty points taken away from Gryffindor. In the House Cup race, Gryffindor was now dead last, seventy-five points behind Ravenclaw.

The fact that Lestrange and Jason had had this duel a week before the Quidditch match against Hufflepuff only made the students angrier about the duel. Lestrange had taken not only himself out of the game, but also Jason. Jason was the reserve Seeker for Gryffindor and without him, Gryffindor now had to use the little girl from the tryouts last year, Adrianna.

He'd heard from Melinda that at the few practices Adrianna had actually played with the team she was so nervous and jittery that she kept forgetting that she was supposed to be looking for the Snitch as she was too concerned with the Bludgers.

Even if Jason had been able to play, his arm was still injured. The burn that Lestrange had done was very hard to heal, Madam Pomfrey had said. She couldn't just wave her wand and heal this one (she didn't say it, but Jason suspected that it was Dark magic).

Professor Snape had made Jason a special potion that he had to take three times a day. It tasted horrible and felt like he was drinking slime.

Lily had been furious with Jason, and every time that either he or Sirius brought up Lestrange, her hands would shake; it was likely something was going to break very soon.

James had been written by both Dumbledore and Lily and had actually shown up at Hogwarts one of the days Jason had been in the hospital.

That had been bad.

Jason's father was furious at Lestrange, of course, but he was angrier at Jason. "You should know better than to rile him up!" he'd roared at Jason. "Henry's mother is _Bellatrix_! He grew up with Voldemort!"

Finally, though, James had calmed down enough to reveal his relief that Jason hadn't been hurt bad enough that Madam Pomfrey couldn't fix.

If Jason was being honest with himself, he could tell that his parents were angrier than they would've been if Jason had started a fight with someone else, other than Henry. It was obvious – they didn't want to lose another son to a Lestrange.

* * *

The morning of the Quidditch match dawned bright and early and it was actually a very nice day out for this time of year. Too bad that Harry couldn't go outside to enjoy it.

He angrily trudged down from Gryffindor Tower to the Great Hall, grabbing a few things of toast to eat and stormed back to upstairs to McGonagall`s office. Enduring breakfast on a regular day was bad enough these days, but on the day of the match, Harry knew he'd end up killing someone.

He knocked on McGonagall's office door and entered when she said he could.

She was sitting at her desk, looking over a few papers. "You're early, Lestrange," she said, without looking up.

Harry took a seat at the student desk in her room and pulled out a piece of paper and a quill.

Since McGonagall had a view of the Quidditch pitch from her office, she just made Harry write lines today, so she could watch the match.

How hypocritical.

Lines were an easy punishment and Harry felt his mind wander away from them to being home with Bellatrix. His eyes suddenly felt gritty and so he rubbed them, furious that thinking of his home made him weepy. Maybe Draco was right – he was going soft.

At that movement, McGonagall clutched the side of the desk, her knuckles going white and drawing Harry out of his thoughts.

"Professor?" he asked, bewildered at her expression.

She was staring at his face, her eyes wide in horror.

"What?" he demanded, looking around him nervously. "What's wrong?"

McGonagall still said nothing, but she drew her hand up to her mouth. "Oh, no," she said.

Harry was starting to get annoyed. "What?" he demanded. "What is it?"

Still, she didn't answer. Annoyed, Harry looked down and tried to ignore her, but he could still feel her eyes on him. Finally, agitated, Harry got to his feet. If she wasn't going to tell him what was wrong, then he was just going to leave –

He looked over and felt his heart stop. Now that he was standing, he had caught his reflection in the mirror on the far wall.

His eyes weren't black anymore.

They were a bright, emerald green.

* * *

A/N: Things are just going downhill, aren't they?

Please review!


	18. Consequences

A/N: You guys are seriously awesome. Siriusly. There are no words to express how sorry I am about the long update time ... really. I had no idea that this year was going to be this much work ... ugh, just thinking about it makes me feel guilty. I did put a little note up in my profile about it, but apparently I am stupid and forgot to add that at the bottom of Chapter 17. I apologize profusely.

I want to thank you all for the reviews, favourites and alerts! I read every review and they make me so happy :) I hope everyone enjoys this chapter; it's nice and long to thank you all for waiting for so long! Anyways, enough of me – here's chapter eighteen!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to the wonderful JK Rowling.

**Chapter Eighteen – Consequences**

For a good thirty seconds, McGonagall was unable to move. She remained frozen where she sat, unable to do anything except stare at Henry Lestrange. He had been pacing but now he was also still. He had caught sight of himself in the mirror and was staring at himself with green eyes.

Emerald green eyes.

Henry was silent, just staring at his reflection. From the angle, McGonagall could also see his reflection and she saw Henry blink, hard, as if trying to erase the green.

To her surprise, when Henry opened his eyes again, they were back to the same old black they usually were.

McGonagall's jaw dropped momentarily and then she snapped it shut. Had that been a trick of the light? No – no it couldn't have been for Henry saw it too.

He was still staring at his reflection, looking slightly bemused, and McGonagall got the horrible feeling that he had seen this happen before.

"Sit down, Lestrange," she barked. He jumped, as if he'd forgotten she was still there and turned to look at her.

"What?" he asked.

"Sit down," McGonagall ordered, trying to keep her frantic tone out of her voice. "Your detention is not over."

Henry gave her a strange look and opened his mouth to ask a question, but McGonagall held her hand up. ""If I have to ask you again, you'll have another week of detentions."

Henry raised his eyebrows slightly, but said nothing. He took his seat and started to write again.

McGonagall tried to focus on her work, but it was impossible. She couldn't stand having him just sitting there when she desperately needed to tell Dumbledore what had happened. "You may leave," she said, more harshly than she intended. "We'll continue this next time."

Henry looked up, puzzled, but got up and left without a word. McGonagall waited only a few minutes before jumping to her feet and running out of the room.

* * *

Harry didn't know what was up with McGonagall but frankly, getting out of detention early was a good deal to him.

The emerald green of his eyes had unnerved him slightly but this wasn't the first time that this had happened. The green had appeared twice before: once when he was seven and when he was eleven, just before he had left to get his wand from Diagon Alley.

Harry had never really thought about it before; and when he had, he just assumed that it was a trick of the light or that his brain was just playing a trick on him.

But this time was different. McGonagall had noticed this as well.

Harry frowned as he walked the hallways of the school. He wasn't sure where he was going, but he somehow ended up in the Entrance Hall. Apparently the Quidditch match had ended – students were flooding into the Hall, the Hufflepuff flags waving crazily as they entered.

As Harry sidestepped some third year Hufflepuffs, he heard one of them saying, "... what a great weekend this is! First we win the match and then tomorrow is the Hogsmeade Trip! I've never been before; what do you think ..."

Harry froze. He had been so preoccupied with the attack on Jason Potter that he had forgotten entirely about the Hogsmeade trip. This might be the only shot that he and Draco got before Hallowe'en to get Longbottom to the Dark Lord.

Now walking with a purpose, Harry turned and headed to the Slytherin Common Room. He stood slightly into the shadows as the students passed him in the dungeon corridor, not wanting to draw attention to himself. All the Slytherins that passed were dressed in Hufflepuff colours – obviously they wouldn't have supported Gryffindor in the match.

It was about five minutes later when Draco finally showed up. He was walking with Daphne and, as Harry stepped out of the shadows to greet him, stopped in his tracks. "What do you want?" Draco demanded. His tone was annoyed.

"Hallowe'en is next week, Draco," Harry said simply. "We need to talk."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Remembered, did you?" Draco said goodbye to Daphne, who looked bewildered, and headed off with Harry. They walked into a secluded, empty corridor and Draco spoke. "_I_ know Hallowe'en is next weekend. I didn't think you even cared about this anymore – you seem a little busy with the attacking Gryffindors."

Harry snarled and resisted the urge to smack Draco upside the head. "I'm in if you're in."

Draco was silent for a moment then he nodded once. "Fine. How do you want to do this?"

Harry frowned, thinking. "I can get Longbottom to Hogsmeade if you arrange for the Death Eaters to meet us there."

"Done," Draco said, starting to turn away. "I'll meet up with you later to tell you what the Dark Lord says, all right?"

Harry watched Draco walk away and then he turned as well. It would be very difficult to get Longbottom to agree to come – after all Harry had attacked Weasley, who was Longbottom's best friend and Neville had been avoiding Harry ever since.

Then, Harry had an idea. He wouldn't be likely to get Longbottom to come, but Granger would.

* * *

"And then, I looked up to see how Henry was doing and –" McGonagall faltered and fell silent. She was in Dumbledore's office, but now that she was here, she could barely bring herself to speak about it.

Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, his head resting on his hands. He had said almost nothing since McGonagall had started to speak. "Yes, Minerva? And what?" he prompted.

"His eyes were green, Albus. Emerald green."

Dumbledore looked astonished. "_What_?"

"Yes, but only for a moment. I thought it might be trick of the light, but I think he noticed too."

"How did he react?" Dumbledore demanded.

McGonagall hesitated. She didn't want Harry Potter, their long lost saviour, to be Henry Lestrange of all people, but she couldn't deny that Henry had looked like this had happened before. "He – he looked a little confused," she said, elusively.

"But?" Dumbledore had picked up on her uncertainty.

"But he looked like he had seen this before," she said, reluctantly.

Dumbledore looked suddenly very gray and tired. He sat back down at his desk and clasped his hands as if he was praying, leaning on his elbows. The Headmaster was silent for a few minutes and McGonagall got nervous. "Albus, what should we do? What could this have been? A trick of the light, like I thought?"

"A glamour losing its charm, most likely," Dumbledore said quietly. "Especially if Henry has seen this before; glamours need replenishment and without that, they fade."

McGonagall was feeling the same alarm that she had felt when she first saw the emerald eyes rising in her now. "But, how could he be Harry? He's Bellatrix's son." She almost sounded desperate.

"Is he though?" Dumbledore mused. He looked up and his eyes were dead serious. "Minerva, if what you saw really did happen, and this isn't the first time, we cannot let the possibility that this might be Harry slip through our fingers."

"Albus, this is Henry Lestrange we're speaking about. He _can't_ be Harry."

"But he could. Doesn't it make sense, Minerva? Bellatrix was the one who supposedly killed Harry, but the Marauder's Map shows that he is still alive. Is it so unreachable to suggest that perhaps she took Harry and raised him as Henry?"

McGonagall stared at Dumbledore. "It is listed that Bellatrix had a son named Henry," she argued. "If this Henry is Harry, what happened to the real Henry Lestrange?"

Dumbledore was solemn, quiet. "Bellatrix left a child's body behind at Godric's Hollow. I thought that it was just a Transfigured body of an adult, but this makes more sense."

"Sense? Sense? Albus, none of this makes sense! Why would Bellatrix Lestrange, pureblooded and most loyal servant of Lord Voldemort, take Harry Potter with her and raise him as her own? I mean, she is crazy but this –"

"It may have made sense to her, Minerva. You're right – Bellatrix is insane and I cannot pretend to know what she thought when she did this."

McGonagall shook her head. "Albus, I taught Bellatrix Lestrange for seven years. I knew her. She hated, _hated_, Muggleborns and half-bloods. I cannot believe that she would knowingly raise a half blood as her son."

"Perhaps not knowingly," Dumbledore acquiesced, "but I believe that she considers Harry to be her son with her whole heart. I doubt she even has recollection of taking him with her. If she did, Voldemort would know about it through his Legilimency skills."

McGonagall was aghast. "Albus, you're saying that Henry Lestrange is Harry Potter. You realize this?"

He nodded his head once.

McGonagall had come here to hopefully get Dumbledore to reassure her that it wasn't true, that it couldn't be true. "Don't you see how awful this sounds?" she shrieked. "What this will do to Lily and James? Their murdered son raised by his murderer?"

Dumbledore looked very sad. "I do see that, Minerva. But, we are moving too swiftly. His eyes turning green isn't conclusive proof about anything. The only thing might prove that Henry is Harry would be a blood exam. Madam Pomfrey will be able to perform it right here at Hogwarts."

McGonagall had heard of a blood exam before (it was a common thing to do at St Mungo's to check for any magical poisoning or to see what was wrong with you) but she had never heard that it was able to check for parentage.

She was about to ask how it worked when Dumbledore got to his feet. "Come, Minerva. We must go speak with Severus."

"Severus?" McGonagall repeated, bewildered. "What about Madam Pomfrey?"

"Yes, Severus. We will speak to Poppy afterwards." Dumbledore looked at McGonagall straight in the eyes. "You are not the first person to suspect Henry Lestrange of being Harry Potter."

* * *

Harry reached the library in nearly no time; the corridors were deserted as most of the students had remained outside after the Quidditch match ended to enjoy the sunshine.

He hadn't meant to open the doors so violently, but he ended up slamming them into the back wall as he entered. Madam Pince jumped nearly a foot in the air at her place behind the checkout counter. "Mr Lestrange! This is the _library_, not the Quidditch Pitch!"

He ignored her and continued walking through the aisles, until he reached a slightly open area where the tables where. Sure enough, Granger was sitting at one, her head buried in a book.

She must've known that it was Harry approaching from Madam Pince's shout, so she just said, without looking up, "Go away."

For a moment, Harry wondered what he had done today to annoy her, and then he remembered that she was still angry with him for murdering Moody.

Harry was in no mood for her stupidity about Moody's murder today. He pulled up a chair, scrapping it loudly to make a point.

Hermione's head still stubbornly remained in the book. "Henry, I don't want to talk to you. Please go away."

"You don't have to _want_ to talk to me," Harry said, smoothly. "But you do have to."

She snorted and finally looked up from the book. "What makes you think that?"

Harry leaned forward and said, in a low voice, "The Vow."

Hermione immediately launched backwards, sliding her chair across the floor with a loud _squeak_. Before she could even get to her feet, Harry was standing beside her, gripping her upper arm with his hand.

Madam Pince's sharp footsteps sounded, getting closer. Hermione wrenched her arm away and Harry let her go.

The librarian's pinched face leered around a corner. Her eyes flickered over Hermione, who was flushed, and to Harry, who was standing very close to her. They narrowed. "Mr Lestrange, is there a problem here?"

"No," Harry said clearly. "We were just leaving and Grang–Hermione just pushed her chair back too hard and almost fell off of it. I was just helping her up."

Madam Pince looked suspicious, but she said, "Well, the pair of you get out of here. You're disrupting the quiet of the library."

Hermione nodded once, although she looked very disappointed that Madam Pince had believed Harry's story, and scooped up her book from the table. She was so flustered that she forgot her book bag, the strap hooked over the back of her chair. Harry took this and then followed her out of the library.

Hermione marched for a good five minutes, purposely avoiding looking back at Harry. He dutifully followed her, a little amused with her reaction to the words "the Vow".

She led him down several staircases and into a part of the castle he had never been before. Finally, once the pair were in a secluded corridor that looked like it hadn't been visited in years, she stopped and turned to stare at him, one arm cradling her book and the other on her hip. "I'm done with that Vow," she said. "I helped you last year enough."

Harry smirked. "Pity that last year wasn't our real mission, then."

Her mouth dropped open. "What? _What_! You –" she took a step towards him, drawing her wand from her cloak as she did so.

Harry drew his own wand and pointed it at her. "You never actually asked what the mission was, Granger. And you were too afraid of the Vow to tempt it."

"I –"

"I wouldn't try it now," Harry said, speaking over her. "Seeing as this is the real mission." He paused and then murmured, "_Muffliato_."

She closed her mouth and stared at him with upset eyes. "I won't do it."

Harry sighed; he'd been expecting this. "You'll do it or die, Granger. Really, there's not much of a choice."

After a few moments of silence, she spoke. "What is it? What do I have to do?" Her voice was strained.

Harry smirked again. "I need you to get Neville Longbottom to Hogsmeade tomorrow."

Hermione looked bewildered for a quick moment and then she shrieked. Her scream echoed through the hall and Harry was glad he'd cast Muffliato. She backed up and pointed her wand at Harry. "No! You're going to murder Neville, just like you did Moody –"

"_I'm_ not going to murder Longbottom," Harry said, truthfully. "My mission is to get him to Hogsmeade."

She laughed shrilly. "I'm not an idiot, Lestrange! If this was your whole mission, then you could've done that last year! You're going to kill him! Or ... or _he_ is going to kill him!"

She turned and started to run, but Harry just wordlessly Summoned her back to his side. She yelped again and tried to run, but Harry grabbed her arm again. "Listen to me Granger, you're going to do this or you are going to die."

"No, I won't do it –" Her words caught in her throat as it seemed to close up on itself. Her hands went automatically to her throat, grabbing at it.

"I bet agreeing to help will return your breathing to normal," Harry said calmly.

Hermione looked like she was about to burst into tears, but she nodded after a few moments. She dropped her hands from her throat and took several deep, rasping breaths.

Harry smiled slightly and let go of her arm. She took an automatic step backwards, rubbing her arm. "I'll talk to you tonight in the Common Room – make sure Longbottom's agreed to come by then. And remember, Granger, no one needs to know about this."

Harry waved as he headed back the direction they'd come, Hermione watching him with tears in her eyes.

* * *

Draco had the mirror to contact the Dark Lord in his dorm room in the Slytherin dungeons. He hurried there, barricading himself in the dorm room. He cast the usual privacy charms around the door and then took a deep breath.

He hadn't spoken to the Dark Lord, or any of the Death Eaters, since the conversation where Henry had let slip that they'd poisoned Moody.

He felt a twitch of annoyance at the thought of his cousin. Henry was messing everything up: first, wanting to kill Moody, and now attacking Jason Potter. This was so stupid – didn't Henry see that he was jeopardizing everything?

Putting thoughts of his cousin away, Draco lifted the mirror to his face.

It took several minutes of Draco just staring at himself before the Dark Lord's face appeared.

"Malfoy," Voldemort greeted, his voice cold. "Halloween is next weekend."

"I know, my lord," Draco said. "Henry and I were planning on getting Longbottom tomorrow. There's a Hogsmeade weekend, you see –"

Voldemort cut him off. "Tomorrow?" he clarified.

Draco nodded. "Yes. Henry is arranging to get Longbottom to the village."

The Dark Lord was silent for a moment. "Tell Henry to bring him to the Shrieking Shack before noon. My Death Eaters will be waiting for them, in the house, and they will take Longbottom back to Riddle Manor." He paused and then said, "Perhaps I will come as well."

Draco's stomach did a nervous flip flop at seeing the Dark Lord tomorrow, when he would be under incredible stress for the mission to go as planned. But he nodded.

The Dark Lord continued, "You will meet the Death Eaters there – let them in and put the protective spells up. Once Longbottom has been secured, any others that Henry brings along will be dealt with."

Draco wasn't sure if that meant killed or captured, but either way was fine with him. "Yes, my lord."

Draco spoke with the Dark Lord for a few more minutes, going over the plan. Draco recited it, twice, to Voldemort and then was the Dark Lord satisfied that he knew it well enough. That made Draco feel like he was a child again – the Dark Lord used to do this in lessons with Draco and Henry. But it was obvious why Voldemort was doing it now: he didn't trust that Draco or Henry were going to be able to pull this off.

"Give the mirror to Henry," Voldemort ordered. "Bellatrix will inform him of his duties some time tonight."

"Yes, my lord."

Voldemort sighed and said, "That is all. We will see you tomorrow, I suppose." He paused and said, "Oh, and Malfoy? If you fail at this, you may face the fate that Longbottom has a waiting for him."

* * *

As Slytherin was not playing Quidditch today, Professor Snape had remained in his office. He had no interest Quidditch even when Slytherin was playing but a game between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor? Please.

He was grading the second years' essays on the uses of dittany when a sharp knock sounded on his door.

Thinking it was a student, he waved his wand at the door and it swung open. "Yes?" he asked, irritably, not looking up.

"Severus, may we come in?"

Snape looked up automatically at Dumbledore's voice. The Headmaster stood in the doorway, Professor McGonagall hovering behind him.

"Of course," Snape said, rising to summon two more chairs. The professors took these, sitting in front of Snape's desk, but said nothing. "Is something wrong?" he asked, finally.

McGonagall looked at Dumbledore but the Headmaster just looked at Snape. "Do you remember what you told me last year about Henry Lestrange?"

Snape did – he'd thought that Henry Lestrange had looked an awful lot like James Potter, but Dumbledore had just ignored him. "Yes," Snape said slowly. "Why?"

Dumbledore looked to McGonagall, who sighed loudly and recited her story about seeing Henry Lestrange's eyes turn green for a brief moment.

Snape felt suddenly awful; a deep guilt was trickling into his gut. He had thought that Henry might've been Harry Potter last year, but he had put that away, in the hopes that they would find out that Harry hadn't been raised by Voldemort.

"So, you think Henry Lestrange is Lily's son?"

"Nothing is conclusive, yet, but we have reason to pursue this further. Madam Pomfrey will be able to perform a blood exam to prove his heritage."

"A blood exam," Snape repeated, frowning. "You need Lestrange's blood to do that, not to mention the Potters." He paused. "What about Lily?" he asked, barely stumbling over her name. "And Potter? Did – did you tell them yet?"

McGonagall started. "Lily and James? What – you want to talk to them now? When we don't know anything for sure?"

Snape exchanged a look with Dumbledore. The Headmaster was frowning slightly, as he thought.

"I think we should inform them," Dumbledore said, slowly. "They should know about what you saw, Minerva. If Henry is Harry, then he is their son and they need to know that he might be right here."

"Albus, if it is Henry ... I hate to say it, but wouldn't it be better if we just left it alone?" McGonagall said. "If Harry Potter was raised as Henry Lestrange, then Harry Potter is truly dead. You've seen Lestrange around the school – he nearly killed Jason Potter just this past week!" Suddenly her hand flew to her mouth. "Jason ... oh, Merlin, if this is true, Harry Potter tried to kill his brother."

Dumbledore got to his feet. "I am aware of that, Minerva, but we cannot just 'forget' that Henry might be Harry. If he is, then, in due time, Henry will thank us for returning him to the Potters. Come, we'll all go speak to Lily."

* * *

After Harry left Hermione, he headed outside to the usual tree where he and Draco met up. Draco was already there, gazing into the mirror in his hand.

"Have you called yet?" Harry asked, sitting down beside his cousin.

Draco looked at Harry for a moment and then said, "Yes. The Dark Lord says he'll send his best Death Eaters tomorrow to come and collect Longbottom. The Dark Lord himself might even come."

Harry felt a nervous flutter in his stomach. If they screwed this up, they were dead. He nodded tightly and said, "So what's the plan?"

"I'll go ahead to the Shrieking Shack and wait with the Death Eaters for you. You'll bring Longbottom up there – you did get Longbottom to come, right?"

Harry nodded, smirking. "Granger's getting him."

Draco looked alarmed. "Granger? Henry, she's not the most trustworthy person for us to –"

"The Vow, remember?" Harry said, feeling slightly annoyed that his triumphant accomplishment was ruined by the question. "She has to help us and Longbottom won't come if I asked him."

Draco just nodded, emotionless. "That's fine. Once Longbottom is near the Shack, the Death Eaters will attack, grab him and Apparate with him to Riddle Manor. If there are any others there, then they'll be ... dealt with."

"Dealt with?" Harry repeated, smiling slightly.

Draco nodded and then he smiled. "And the best part – we'll get to go home."

Home.

"Good," Harry said, relief flooding through him. "I can't wait to be rid of this school."

Draco got to his feet, and Harry followed suit. "I agree," Draco said, handing the mirror to Harry. "Here. I'm going to go see Daphne: if this is the last night we're here, I want to make it memorable –" he winked – "and Bellatrix will probably call you tonight because she wants to go over the plan with you herself."

Harry nodded, tucking the mirror into his pocket. He walked with Draco up the castle steps and, as Draco headed down to the dungeon, called out, "Have fun."

"Oh, I will," Draco called back, laughing slightly. "You have fun with Granger, Henry."

Harry rolled his eyes and headed up the marble staircase and towards the Gryffindor Common Room. He had to check how Granger was doing ... doubtful she'd even asked Longbottom yet.

* * *

Lily was walking with Professor Sprout up the stone steps that led to the school, chatting about the Quidditch match, when Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape came up to them.

"Excuse us, Pomona, but we need to speak with Lily privately."

Professor Sprout, gleeful about Hufflepuff's win, just waved and walked off – probably off to the Hufflepuff Common Room to congratulate her team.

Lily looked to the Headmaster, Professor McGonagall and Snape. "What is it?"

"We'll speak in your office."

Dumbledore led the way, Lily following behind him. McGonagall and Snape tagged along behind them. Lily hurried ahead to unlock the door and summoned three more chairs.

"Sit, sit," she said, taking her own seat behind her desk. Once the other three were seated, she asked, "What is this about?"

McGonagall and Snape both looked to Dumbledore to speak. He did, saying, "Before we begin, we need to speak with both you and James. Can you Floo call him and get him here?"

Lily crossed her arms, although she was feeling a little worried. Dumbledore wouldn't ask for James if this wasn't very important. "I can't just call James and tell him to come to Hogwarts, Albus," she said. It was the truth. It was bad enough when he had to leave work early to come see Jason in the Hospital Wing last week – James had said Scrimgeour, his boss, had been quite annoyed that he'd just taken off. "Can't you just tell me?"

"I'm sorry Lily, but we really need to speak with both you and James first." Dumbledore was firm.

This frustrated Lily immensely. "Well, I think he's on an Auror mission today so he probably can't come right away." She pinched the bride of her nose in aggravation. "What is it about?"

"Harry," Dumbledore said simply.

Lily dropped her hand; she had been right. This was very important. "Harry?" she whispered. "You – you know something?"

"Yes, but we must speak to both of you, Lily."

Lily nodded and got to her feet. To hell with Scrimgeour. This was essential.

She walked over to the fireplace and picked up some Floo Powder. Throwing it into the fire, she bent down and stuck her head into the green flames, shouting, "Ministry of Magic, Auror office!"

The flames engulfed her head with a funny tickling sensation and swirled around her. Three gates approached and Lily jerked her head to the left one. That one suddenly bloomed with green fire and she was suddenly looking into a black marble room, complete with cubicles decorated with Wanted posters of several Death Eaters.

The room was empty at the moment and Lily frowned. Then she realized it was nearing supper time and most of the Aurors here would be the ones coming in for the night shift. Lily thought about Flooing to Potter Manor, when suddenly, the door that led out into the main hall swung open. A young witch stood there, elaborate curls piled in her head, holding a carton with the label_ The Leaky Cauldron_. It was Daisy Jones, the Auror's office secretary.

"Merlin's beard!" she exclaimed, when she saw the fireplace and Lily's head sticking out of it. "Oh, Mrs Potter, it's just you – you startled me!"

"Sorry, Daisy," Lily apologized. "Is my husband here?"

Daisy shook her head. "No, he went on an overnight mission with Dawlish and Scrimgeour. He'll be back tomorrow morning."

Disappointment flooded Lily. "Oh. Well, can you tell him to Floo me the moment he gets in? It's very important."

She nodded and Lily ducked back into the fireplace. Returning from a Floo call took only seconds and she was soon back in her office. She straightened, brushing off some soot from her clothes.

"Is he coming?" Snape asked, a little sourly.

Lily shook her head. "No. He's on an overnight mission and won't be back until the morning." She turned to Dumbledore. "Can you tell me?" she pleaded. "We'll be able to speak with James tomorrow."

Dumbledore hesitated and then shook his head. "No, Lily. We'll wait for James to arrive."

* * *

Hermione was sitting in the corner armchair in the Common Room, her fists clenched around the bindings of the book she propped open on her lap.

Neville and Ron were sitting across the room, playing chess. It looked as if Ron was winning, per usual, and Neville looked quite focused and annoyed on the game. Ron's hair looked very windswept and Hermione remembered that he'd been playing in Quidditch that day.

Hermione looked away, clenching her fists tighter. All she should be worrying about was whether or not Gryffindor had won the match that day, not how she was going to aid a murderer in kidnapping.

She wanted to kill Henry Lestrange. This was all his fault. She had helped _murder_ someone, a teacher no less, and now he was forcing her to help him kidnap one of her friends.

She hated him.

Speak of the devil. The Common Room portrait hole swung open and Henry stepped through. Hermione stared at him, forcing all the hatred she felt for him into her gaze. She wished looks could kill, but apparently the force of her look just made Henry glance over to her. He grinned at her and nodded his head towards Longbottom.

As if something was forcing her, Hermione got to her feet, dropping her book onto the floor. She strode over to Neville and Ron, more confidently than she ever would have done if the Vow had not been forcing her to act this way.

"Hey," Hermione said, coming over and sitting in an empty chair between the boys. Her voice came out casual and normal, though internally she was freaking out.

Ron looked up and said hello, but Neville remained focused on the chess game.

Hermione remained silent while they finished their match, with Ron gleefully announcing, "Checkmate" a few moves later.

Neville sat back, disgusted. "Rematch."

"You're on."

Hermione cleared her throat and said, "Guys, you know the Hogsmeade day tomorrow?"

They nodded, both a little absently as they set up the board again.

"Did you guys want to go with me?"

"I'll come," Ron said, automatically, looking delighted. "Neville?"

Neville looked kind of sad. "I can't, remember, Ron? Dumbledore doesn't want me leaving the castle – it isn't safe."

"Come on!" Ron cried. "It'll be fine, Neville! We'll stick near the town and if Hermione comes with us, she'll be able to defeat any Death Eater that may want to kidnap you. Right, Hermione?"

Hermione wasn't sure if Ron was trying to compliment her or coerce Neville into coming, but she nodded. "Exactly. Please, Neville."

Neville scowled. "I don't know, Hermione. I really want to and I know you'd be able to fight off the Death Eaters –" he smiled – "but Professor Dumbledore would be really mad if I left."

She had to get Neville to agree to come. If she couldn't, she figured that Henry would just Imperiuse him and she didn't want Neville to have to suffer more than he already had to.

Hermione looked over, trying to locate Henry, and saw him sitting in the chair she had just been in, reading her book. She felt disgust rise in her throat, but she forced it down and said, "Well, actually, Henry wanted to come with me as well. He'd be able to stop the Death Eaters."

"Lestrange?" Ron said, sharply. He looked over to Henry as well, but even though Ron had spoken loudly, Henry's head remained down in the book. "What did you invite him for?"

Hermione flushed. "He actually invited me," she said, hoping this would annoy Henry. It worked: Henry grunted once, still looking at the book, and Hermione refused to acknowledge him. "But I really don't want to go alone with him ... you know."

Unfortunately, this seemed to have the opposite effect on Ron and Neville than Hermione had hoped. Ron was frowning as well, now. "Lestrange, Hermione? He tried to kill me last week ... I don't know ..."

Hermione could feel like she was losing the pair of them. "Please? I really don't want to have to go with just him... and he's sorry about what he did."

Ron and Neville rose their eyebrows, as did Henry from what Hermione could see in her peripheral vision. "He is?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, he told me so. He said he'd buy you guys a round of Butterbeers at the Three Broomsticks if you come."

Ron and Neville both looked a little suspicious. "Probably poisoned Butterbeers," Ron muttered darkly.

Desperate now, Hermione turned to look at Henry. "Henry, come over here. Tell them you're sorry."

Henry gave her the iciest look he possibly could and then joined them at the table. He took a deep breath and said, "Gr-Hermione's right, guys. I really am sorry about last week. I don't know what came over me. I think just the breakout from Azkaban and all those Death Eaters now out in the open got me scared about what they'd do to me and Draco if they ever found us here." He shuddered, for effect, but Ron and Neville still looked wary.

"I don't believe you," Ron blurted out. "You tried to kill me, Lestrange."

"And that's why I want to make it up to you," Henry said, earnestly. "Come on. I'll buy you guys Butterbeer if you'll come to Hogsmeade. And Hermione's right: no Death Eater will come near you if I don't want them to."

Ron and Neville exchanged a look. "Dumbledore doesn't want me to leave, Henry," Neville said. "So I can't come –"

Henry rolled his eyes. "Dumbledore's too overprotective of you, Neville. If I can go to Hogsmeade, then you can too. The Death Eaters are after me too, you know. We abandoned them so the Dark Lord wants us dead. Please?"

Neville sighed and thought for a few moments. "Okay, fine. I'll come. But only to the Three Broomsticks and then back to the school. And we'll have to be quick."

Henry hesitated for a moment and then he nodded. "Okay, sure."

Suddenly, Ron smacked his forehead. "I forgot – Jason and Melinda wanted us to come to Hogsmeade with them. My brothers are going to be at Zonko's tomorrow and Jason wanted me to try to get a few free things from them."

Henry froze, but Hermione felt the Vow trying to force a few more words out of her. She couldn't contain them: "See, look, that's a big group of us! Henry, you can buy them some drinks too and we'll go to Zonko's afterwards."

The boys all stared at her. "I suppose," Ron said, sounding a little puzzled. "But, I don't know if Jason wants to come with Henry – no offense."

Henry rose his hand. "No offense taken. I did try to kill him."

He might've meant that as a joke, but it came out sounding very awkward. He coughed once and then looked away.

Hermione could feel words trying to force their way up her throat. She tried to force them down, but the Vow overpowered her. "I'll talk to Jason and Melinda," Hermione heard herself say, in a pleasant and cheery voice. "Don't worry about it."

Henry nodded, smiling slightly. Neville and Ron exchanged another look, but then they shrugged and nodded.

After a few moments, Ron and Neville took up their chess game again and Henry and Hermione got up to leave.

Henry turned to go to his dormitory, winking at Hermione as he left. Hermione, feeling horrible, sat back down at her chair and picked up her book once more, although she had never been less interested in reading.

* * *

The moment he put the mirror down from contacting Draco, Voldemort summoned his Death Eaters to Riddle Manor. Everyone arrived momentarily, and took their allotted seats in the meeting room.

"Death Eaters," Voldemort greeted. "Our spies in Hogwarts have informed me that tomorrow will be the day we have all been waiting for." He waited for an appropriate amount of time, building suspense, and then continued. "Tomorrow Longbottom will be captured."

The Death Eaters let out a collective hoot of glee, some slamming the table with their fists in delight.

Voldemort held his hands up for silence and they quieted at once. "I will, myself, go to collect him but I will take six Death Eaters with me."

Now the Death Eaters were dead silent. They wanted to be chosen, it was obvious, and the same thing that applied in school rooms applied here – the quietest would be chosen.

Voldemort, however, already knew who he was going to bring. Only the best would be allowed to come. "Rabastan," Voldemort said. "Lucius. Dolohov. Greyback. Amycus. Alecto."

The chosen Death Eaters smiled and grinned with each other, while the others glumly leaned back in their chairs.

"We will leave at eleven o'clock," Voldemort said. "To the Shrieking Shack, in Hogsmeade. Apparate to the rear of the Shack – we will enter from there."

The Death Eaters nodded and Voldemort dismissed them all, ordering several lower Death Eaters (Wormtail) to ready the cells for a prisoner once they returned.

Voldemort wished that Bellatrix was able to come with them – she was _the_ best – but she had already set off on her mission to kill one of the Unspeakables who had leaked false information to the Death Eaters.

He sighed and then his face lit up with a truly evil smile. Today, the first step of many would be taken to achieve his goal. Longbottom was their shining light, their hope in the darkness, and had inspired them all to keep fighting. With their golden boy dead, their will to fight would also die and Lord Voldemort would soon be the Lord of them all.

* * *

Feeling rather successful that he has Neville getting to Hogsmeade sorted out, Harry headed up to his room.

The dormitory was deserted as it was still the middle of the day and most Gryffindors were in the Common Room, sulking about losing the match. He'd received several dark stares when he'd entered through the portrait hole, but Harry could honestly care less about those stupid Gryffindors and their Quidditch.

He fell onto his bed and pulled out the mirror from his cloak pocket. He wouldn't try to contact Bellatrix because he'd probably end up getting the Dark Lord and not her.

He didn't have to wait too long. The mirror lit up with Bellatrix's face and Harry's own broke into a smile at the sight of his mother.

Bellatrix's black hair was perfectly curled in her usual elegant bun and her black eyes were lined with a sort of eyeliner that made her look somewhat Egyptian. Harry was sharply reminded of his own eyes, but he pushed that thought to the back of his head.

"Henry!" Bellatrix exclaimed. "Oh, dear, how are you? I haven't seen you in so long!"

"I know!" Harry said, smiling at the sight of his mother. "But hopefully I'll get to see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow night," Bellatrix agreed.

"Night?" Harry said sharply. "Aren't you coming to the Shrieking Shack?"

Bellatrix's smile faded slightly and she shook her head. "No. I have another mission for the Dark Lord."

"But –"

"I know," Bellatrix said, sounding glum. "I wanted to see you as well. But, waiting until the evening is not so awful. Besides, then we can have a _proper_ reunion. Narcissa has arranged for us all to have a special dinner once we're all home and Longbottom has been dealt with."

Harry smiled at the thought of his aunt's cooking and also the idea of having a real family dinner again. "Will Rabastan be there?" he asked.

"Doubtful," Bellatrix said, airily. "He was invited, but he will probably remain with the Dark Lord." She scratched one of her eyes absently and Harry thought of his own again.

"Mother, what was that eye spell you would do on me?"

"Dissimulo," she said promptly.

Harry summoned a piece of parchment and a quill and quickly scrawled that down. "Thanks. My eyes have been bothering me lately."

"I'll fix them up for you tomorrow night," Bellatrix promised. "The Dark Lord wants us all to be at the Manor to witness Longbottom's torture and murder, but afterwards we'll go to the Malfoys for dinner and then home."

Home.

Harry nodded. "Do you think the Dark Lord will make Draco and I start more missions right away?"

Bellatrix shrugged. "Probably not. You've been away for so long that he'll want to refresh you on some duelling techniques."

Harry was sharply reminded of how long he had actually been away – more than a year. "I've really missed you, Mother," he said. "I hate it here at Hogwarts; the students are pathetic and the teachers even worse."

Bellatrix nodded, commiserating. "You'll soon be home, Henry, and you'll never have to go back to Hogwarts."

Harry smiled. "Thank Merlin."

There was a distant shouting and Bellatrix sighed. "I'd better go, Henry – the Dark Lord's prisoners keep yelling. I'll have to shut them up."

Harry nodded. "Okay. Bye, Mother. I'll see you tomorrow."

She smiled. "Yes, my dear. Goodbye, Henry."

The mirror faded as Bellatrix turned away from it and Harry set it down on his bed.

He knew he should probably wait until tomorrow night to let Bellatrix fix his eyes, but he had a strange feeling about that. Deciding that it wouldn't harm them to have the charm cast tonight, he drew his wand and went to stand in front of the mirror.

He was just about to utter the spell when a knock on the door made him jump. He stashed his wand behind his back and turned to look at the door. It was Neville.

"Did you want to come down to dinner with us, Henry?" he asked.

Harry didn't really, but he agreed. Neville went back downstairs and Harry paused before following him. He put the mirror in his trunk and then headed down after Neville.

* * *

Hermione didn't speak to Harry at all as they, Ron and Neville went to the Great Hall for dinner. Harry was perfectly fine with this – she had done her part. For today, anyways.

They seemed to be a little late for dinner and so the only four available seats together were right beside Jason Potter and Melinda Bobbin.

Neville led them to those seats, sitting down opposite them. Ron took the empty seat beside Melinda and Hermione and Harry beside Neville.

Jason and Melinda shot Harry dirty looks, but greeted Neville, Ron and Hermione.

Harry was happy to ignore the pair and he helped himself to the food, savouring every bite as this was his last dinner at this school.

The group was onto dessert when Ron cleared his throat and said, sounding nervous, "So tomorrow, about Hogsmeade ... Hermione and Henry are going to come with us."

Melinda choked on her pumpkin juice and Jason's eyes widened.

"Yeah," Harry said, speaking up. He looked at Jason, full on. The boy's arm was still in a sling and his goblet was full of the potion that he had to drink to cure him of the burn. "I'm sorry about that and I want to make it up to you. I'll buy you a Butterbeer tomorrow."

Jason looked very distrustful; his friend Melinda even more so. She stared at him with narrowed eyes, but kept quiet – obviously she thought it was up to Jason to say anything as he had been the one Harry attacked.

Jason remained quiet for a few moments, too, and then said, "Fine. You want to come with us, come. But don't expect us to talk to you."

Harry nodded, barely hiding a smirk. The less Potter opened his mouth, the happier Harry would be.

* * *

The Headmaster and Professors McGonagall and Snape had left last night about half an hour after Lily had returned from Flooing James. Lily had fallen asleep in her office and awoken to the bright sunlight streaming through the window.

She'd been pacing the room ever since and it was nearing eleven in the morning when her fireplace suddenly illuminated and James stepped out of it.

"James!" she exclaimed, running to him and hugging him tightly. He smelled like a rainy forest – the Auror mission must've been in outdoors.

"Lily, what's wrong?" he said, pulling away and looking at her at arm's length. He sounded worried. "Daisy told me just as I walked into the room this morning that you Flooed there last night, looking like you'd seen a ghost –"

"It's about Harry," Lily said, in a breathless voice.

James's demeanour changed instantly. "A-about Harry?"

Lily nodded. "Dumbledore and McGonagall and Snape came up to me yesterday and wanted to speak with the both of us so I don't know what they know, but this must be something big, don't you think?"

James nodded as well. "What are we waiting for? Let's go!"

As they hurried through the hallways, James asked, "What about Sirius? Does he know?"

Lily shook her head. "No. We'll go see him afterwards. Dumbledore wanted to talk to us first."

James frowned. "But he told Snape?"

Lily had wondered about that as well, but she shrugged. "Come on, let's just get there."

It was only a few more moments before they arrived in front of Dumbledore's office. "Peppermint," Lily said, and the gargoyle in front jumped out of the way.

The Potters entered and before they could even knock on the door, Dumbledore opened it. "Lily. James, good to see you."

James murmured a similar greeting and Dumbledore ushered them in. "Sit down, I'll just alert Minerva that you're here –" He looked at his phoenix, Fawkes, who instantly disappeared in a burst of flame.

James and Lily took a seat, grasping hands. It seemed like the longest moments of Lily's life, just sitting there, waiting.

"Tea?" Dumbledore offered, holding up a bright purple teapot. Lily wondered briefly why on earth he had such an ugly thing, but just shook her head in decline of the offer.

A few minutes later, McGonagall rushed in. "I'm sorry I'm late, Albus, one of the third years who didn't get his permission form signed to go to Hogsmeade was nagging me."

"The Hogsmeade trip is today?" James asked. He looked to Lily. "Did Jason go?"

Lily nodded. "I think so."

James frowned. "He should've been grounded from going, after that stunt he pulled with Henry Lestrange."

At that name, Dumbledore and McGonagall exchanged a look.

Lily noticed this and her heart race suddenly increased. She looked away from James and to the Professors. "Tell us what's going on," she demanded.

"We have reason to believe that we have found Harry. Good reason."

Lily and James looked at each other. Lily didn't know what to say, and James just whispered, "Who is he?"

Dumbledore took a deep breath. "Harry has possibly been living as Henry Lestrange."

* * *

After breakfast, the group of Gryffindors who were going to Hogsmeade headed back up to their Common Room to get some warmer cloaks. Yesterday had been wonderful weather, but today the sky threatened rain.

As Harry had left the Great Hall, walking beside Neville, he had caught Draco's eye. Draco looked nervous, but excited and had nodded at Harry in recognition.

As Neville didn't want to get caught by any Aurors, the group waited until about half of the students had left before heading out, which was around eleven. By then the Aurors would be busy enough.

Harry knew the Aurors wouldn't be a problem – Draco had dealt with the ones especially assigned to protect Neville by 'distracting' them with a few Sleeping Draughts he'd gotten from Snape's store cupboard. Harry didn't know when Draco had time to do this but he had been happy to hear about it earlier that morning.

Once everyone had their cloaks and scarves, the six Gryffindors headed down to the Entrance Hall, which was milling with students.

They got in the queue to check out with Filch and when it was their turn, Filch grunted as Harry told him his name and marked him off on the list. Luckily, neither Jason nor Harry's punishment had including being banned from Hogsmeade.

The caretaker raised an eyebrow as Neville said his name. He opened his mouth to say something about it, but Harry had slipped his wand into his palm and wordlessly said the Imperious curse – it was time he got some practice with this curse, anyways, and who better to practice on than a Squib?

_Let Longbottom through_, Harry ordered.

Filch's eyes bulged out slightly and then he nodded, gruffly. "Off you go, Longbottom, no loitering about."

Neville looked a little surprised but hurried through the gate before Filch could change his mind.

Harry held the Imperious Curse until the rest of the group was through and then ended it with, _You remember nothing about this curse. You will remember nothing about who left with Longbottom today. You won't remember that he even left the castle._

Harry didn't wait to see the effects of this final request on Filch; he hurried to catch up with the rest of the group as they walked down the pathway to Hogsmeade. Hermione looked sick and green as the group of six walked down and pushed their way into the crowded Three Broomsticks. Ron spotted a table and led everyone over.

Madam Rosmerta came to their table, smiling. "Can I get you guys anything?"

"A round of Butterbeers," Ron said, settling into his seat.

She nodded and drifted away, returning a few moments later with a tray of six foamy Butterbeers.

The group made small talk, but Harry remained mostly quiet. He was focused on completing this mission (and maybe having that annoying Potter 'dealt' with) and couldn't keep up with the conversation.

However, when Ron roared, "How about another round? Lestrange is buying!" Harry snapped back to attention. He grinned back, but was trying to avoid the urge to strangle Weasley where he sat.

* * *

Lily and James sat in a stunned silence. Lily couldn't believe what Dumbledore was telling her.

Of all people that Harry could be, Dumbledore had to suggest Henry Lestrange, the son of Bellatrix? The boy had tried to kill Jason! He had been to be a Death Eater and this was who Dumbledore thought was her son?

"Lestrange?" Lily managed to choke out. "Henry Lestrange?"

When Dumbledore didn't speak, McGonagall took a deep breath and said, "When I was in detention with Henry Lestrange yesterday, during the Quidditch match, I looked up to see what he was doing and his eyes weren't black anymore."

Lily's hands in James' curled into fists, her heart nearly stopping. "What?"

"They were green," McGonagall finished, watching Lily's reaction carefully. "Emerald green. Just like yours."

Time seemed to have stop.

No. They could not be telling Lily this. Harry had to be someone else, _anyone else_ – not Henry Lestrange. Not a boy raised by Bellatrix herself. Not a boy who would so callously attack another student.

_It couldn't be true._

"Let me get this straight: you're saying that Henry Lestrange is our son?" James asked, his voice carefully controlled.

"We have a suspicion that he is," Dumbledore interjected quickly. "It is odd that Henry's eyes would turn to green, but of course –"

"Albus, do you realize what you are saying?" Lily demanded, getting to her feet in agitation.

"Lily, I know that it is a lot to digest –"

"I'll say," she said shortly. She shook her head once. "It can't be true."

"Wait – that's all the proof you have?" James interrupted, sounding a little angry. "That his eyes turned green? That's circumstantial, Albus, at best, and –"

"Yes, James, I know. Further tests will be needed, but I do have to tell you that Minerva isn't the first to suggest that Harry might be Henry."

James and Lily were both surprised. "Who else?" Lily demanded.

"Severus," Dumbledore said simply.

"Snape knew?" James barked. "_What_?"

"He suspected something was wrong about the boy last year," Dumbledore said. "But I believed, because we thought Harry was dead then, that there was nothing to the claim. I wish we had delved further into it last year, but ..."

The room fell silent again and then James asked, "How can we be sure?"

"A blood exam will prove it," Dumbledore explained. "Madam Pomfrey can perform one here – we will need samples of both of your blood and also one from a relative of the Lestrange or Black family."

"I'm cousins with Rodolphus," James said. "Would that work?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "We don't want to risk the contamination because you might also be Henry's father."

Lily felt a thrill of fear at those words – what if James really was Henry's father? That made her his mother and ... she shook her head. No. It couldn't be true.

"What about Sirius?" James was suggesting. "He's Bellatrix's cousin, after all."

Dumbledore nodded. "I believe that would work. But, before we deal with that, we must find Henry and make sure he remains in the castle until we can perform the blood exam."

"That's going to be difficult, Albus," McGonagall said. "Today's the Hogsmeade weekend and I don't doubt that he's gone out with the rest of the school."

The teachers and James all exchanged a look. "We'll go see Argus and see if he signed Henry out on the list. If he did ... we'll have to go to Hogsmeade to get him."

Leading the way down into the Entrance Hall was James. Lily marched right behind him, although she wasn't even thinking anymore. All she could see was the little baby Harry she remembered being kissed and hugged by Bellatrix Lestrange.

The last of the students who were heading to Hogsmeade gawked at the sight of three Professors and James storming into the Entrance Hall and over to Filch.

Filch himself flushed at the sight and yelped, staring at the ceiling, "Peeves, I'll get you this time!"

"No, Argus," Dumbledore said, smiling slightly. "This is nothing Peeves did. We just need to see the list of the students who have gone to Hogsmeade."

Filch readily handed this over, grinning manically as Dumbledore scanned the list. "What did one of the little buggers do?"

Dumbledore ignored him and tapped the list once with a long finger. "Yes, he's gone."

Dread filled Lily. "Who was Henry Lestrange with?" she demanded of Filch.

"You can't expect me to remember that! That lot left nearly an hour ago, I think."

"Please," Lily said. "This very important."

Filch grumbled something and scratched his head, as if he was struggling to remember. "Granger," he grunted. "And the Weasley boy who's still here. With your kid too," he added, nodding at Lily.

Lily's heart stopped. What on earth was Jason doing with Henry Lestrange in Hogsmeade?

"Thank you, Argus," Dumbledore said, swiftly, handing him the list back. He turned away from the caretaker, and to the other three. "We have no time to waste."

* * *

After a good hour in the Three Broomsticks, Harry was ready to move on.

"Don't you want to go to Zonko's?" Harry reminded Ron.

Ron swore and checked his watch. "Fred and George won't be there much longer. Come on, let's go."

The Gryffindors departed, Harry having to pay a ridiculous amount for the twelve Butterbeers – a total of five Galleons, three Sickles and two Knuts.

Neville hesitated as they exited the pub and looked up to the looming Hogwarts castle in the distance.

"Come on, Neville," Harry said, spotting this. "There are so many people here today and there's been no activity of Death Eaters around here lately at all. Lighten up a little."

Neville smiled weakly and said, "All right."

Unfortunately for Ron and Jason, the queue to get into Zonko's was ridiculous. It went around out the door and around the street corner. Harry was a little worried about this – if they had to wait in this long line, then when would he be able to get Neville to the Shrieking Shack?

"Who knew Fred and George were that popular," Ron said, cocking his head to the side as he surveyed the crowd.

"We'd best get in line," Jason said, sighing.

From the back of the queue, Harry spotted the Shrieking Shack and suddenly the opportunity to get Longbottom there hit him.

"Why don't we go up to the Shrieking Shack instead of waiting here?"

Melinda glanced up the shack and gulped. "The Shack? My dad says that's the most haunted building in England."

"Ah, come on!" Harry urged. "What's the point of waiting here in this line when we could go up to the Shack? I bet when we're done there, this line will be shorter."

The others looked conflicted, especially Hermione. Her face had drained of blood, but Harry knew the Vow prevented her from speaking anything against the idea of the Shack.

"I've never been there before," Harry said. "I want to see what it's like. Come on!"

Ron looked up towards the corner where the queue hadn't moved at all. He shrugged. "Sure. Why not. Let's go."

Thankful for the Weasel, Harry gleefully led the group up the hillside towards the Shrieking Shack, the blonde girl Melinda complaining and moaning about fright the whole way up the hill, but Harry managed to ignore her.

This was it.

* * *

Having been positioned in the Shrieking Shack for almost two hours, it was needless to say that Lord Voldemort was getting annoyed.

"When will they be here?" Voldemort asked Draco again.

The Malfoy boy had been in the Shrieking Shack when the Death Eaters and Voldemort arrived just before eleven. He'd hurriedly let them in through a back entrance and the Death Eaters had set about, performing security charms that would conceal them in case Longbottom happened to glance through the window before he entered the building. Voldemort himself had cast a special hearing charm that magnified any words spoken in the immediate area around the Shack so he could hear what was going on.

"They should be here soon," Draco said, nervously, looking at his watch. "I don't know what is taking so long." He looked up at his father, who was standing with his hand firmly on Draco's shoulder.

The other Death Eaters were all positioned near the windows of the house, with Rabastan and Greyback right beside the door. None would move until Voldemort gave the order.

"I see Henry," Voldemort said, suddenly. He was standing by the window, watching the hill that led from Hogsmeade. Henry Lestrange was the first to rise over the hill with a look of nervous anticipation on his face.

He glanced at the Shack, but obviously could see no sign of life there. He entered the hearing amplification range and he heard, as if Henry was standing in the Shrieking Shack, "Come on, guys. What, are you scared?"

Two others came over the crest of the hill: a black haired boy and a redheaded one.

The dark haired boy said, "There's nothing to be afraid of in there. My dad says that the ghost stories are all made up."

Another three people rounded the hill then: two girls, a blonde and a brunette, followed by Neville Longbottom himself.

Voldemort gripped his wand tightly and whispered, "Get ready, Death Eaters."

* * *

Harry had no idea when the Dark Lord was going to come out and get Longbottom, so he just tried to get Neville as close as he could to the Shack.

"You don't really believe in the ghost stories, do you, Neville?"

Neville hesitated and said, "I don't know, Henry. My parents always told me that there were ghosts in there, but I don't know if they were telling the truth or not."

"Why don't we go in there and find out?" Harry suggested. At the others' hesitation, he added, "What's the harm? If there is a ghost in there, they're dead already and can't harm us." He paused and then added, "Or are you too scared of a ghost?"

"Of course not," Ron scoffed, taking a step closer. "Come on, Neville."

Harry had just turned around to walk closer to the building when something very forceful hit him in the back of the head. It felt like a rock had been thrown at him and he fell right over, landing in a loose pile of dirt.

For a brief moment Harry wondered what on earth had happened. His head was aching and his eyes were burning and itchy. Rubbing them, he scrambled to his feet, drawing his wand as he did so.

"Who did that?" he snarled, looking around at them all. Neville, Ron, Jason, Melinda and Hermione were all gaping at him. "Who?" He pointed his wand at Ron. "Weasley –"

"That wasn't me!" Ron protested, looking alarmed and raising his arms in defence. "A bright white light just came out of nowhere and hit you!"

"It came from the Shack!" Melinda shrieked. "There really is a ghost in there!"

"No," Hermione snapped. "It came from behind us."

The group turned around, all drawing their wands. Harry looked back to the Shack, rubbing his eyes once more. If this was their plan, then he was going to have to have a word with the Death Eater who had cast the spell at him.

Harry turned to join the Gryffindors, still playing along with this little game. He came to stand beside Jason, who glanced at him. The boy did a double take and then yelped in alarm. "What happened to you?" he demanded. "Your eyes are green!"

Trepidation filled Harry then. "What?"

The others were looking at him now too. "Merlin's pants!" Ron exclaimed. "They are green!"

Melinda seemed to have entirely lost her head. "He's possessed! The Shack is haunted! Oh, let's leave, please!" She grabbed Hermione's arm, but Hermione shook her off.

"He's not possessed," said a rumbling voice from a little ways down the hill. "He's perfectly fine."

Albus Dumbledore stood there, his wand drawn and pointed at Harry. Horror filled Harry and he glanced back towards the Shack, but it was still and silent.

There were three _pops_ and suddenly Professor McGonagall, Lily Potter and James Potter were standing there.

Jason's mouth fell open again. "Mum? Dad? What are you doing here?"

His parents ignored him and walked the rest of the way up the hill, towards Harry. Both of them were staring at him with incredulous looks on their faces.

Harry backed away automatically, looking desperately to the Shrieking Shack. What was going on? Where were the Death Eaters?

"Henry," Dumbledore said, coming closer as well. "We need to talk with you at the castle."

Alarm bells rang in Harry's head, loud and clear. Did they know? "I didn't do anything!" he protested, backing up again.

"It's nothing you did," Dumbledore said smoothly. "Come, please. We need to speak."

There was nothing he could do. McGonagall and Dumbledore were on either side of Harry, both with their wands drawn. Harry could attack them all, but he didn't know the situation with the Death Eaters. Were they even there? Had Voldemort not shown up? Had Draco lied about saying he arranged the Death Eaters?

"Neville, you will come with us as well," Dumbledore said, sounding disappointed. "It is not safe for you without Aurors. At any moment, Death Eaters could be here."

They already were! Harry wanted to scream. Why weren't they helping him? This was their only chance of getting Longbottom – what was the Dark Lord doing?

Dumbledore and McGonagall walked on either side of Harry as they directed him away from the Shack and down the hill. The other Gryffindors, looking bewildered, were speaking to Lily and James and then they also followed Harry down the hill. The Gryffindors walked ahead of the Potters, the couple having shooed their son away from them. Lily was shaking her head, almost in tears, and James was staring at Harry like he had never seen him before.

Harry had no idea what this was about, but he couldn't focus on that now. He had failed the Dark Lord again.

* * *

Harry had been escorted all the way through the town of Hogsmeade and up the hill to Hogwarts castle by the teachers. Once inside the castle, the five Gryffindors had been ordered to their Common Room by a very angry Professor McGonagall, while Harry had been taken directly to Dumbledore's office. James had escorted them there, saying he wanted to get something from Jason, but had rejoined them on their way up to Dumbledore's office as if he'd taken a shortcut.

Harry was sitting, currently, in a rather uncomfortable chair, in said office, staring at the people around him. Professors Snape and Black had been waiting in the office for him, as had Madam Pomfrey. He had no idea what on earth they were doing there, especially the school nurse.

The adults had all taken seats opposite him, and they were all staring at him.

"Does anyone want to tell me what's going on?" Harry spat, angrier than he had ever been in his life. They had ruined his mission.

No one answered and then Professor Dumbledore spoke. "Henry, do you realize that your eyes are green?"

"People have been saying," Harry said dryly. He turned to McGonagall. "What spell did you hit me with to change my eyes to green?"

The teachers all exchanged a puzzled look.

"What do you mean?" McGonagall asked.

"You did this to me in detention this morning, too," Harry explained, slowly. Honestly, the teachers at Hogwarts were so stupid. "And you did it again at the Shrieking Shack."

McGonagall shook her head. "I didn't curse you, Henry. And Professor Dumbledore used the Finite Charm on you at the Shack today."

Harry stared at her. "What? I don't understand."

The teachers were all quiet and then Snape spoke. "What I believe everyone is saying, and you are too dim to pick up on, is that you do not have black eyes. There was a glamour on them to make them black and once the glamour was gone, the green that you truly have remained."

Harry gaped at Snape. Had this whole group gone crazy?

"My eyes are black," Harry said, slowly, as if explaining this to a toddler. "They've always been black and you hit me with some spell to make them green. Which brings me to this – why the hell did you do that?"

"We didn't," James said, speaking to Henry for the first time. "Those are your eyes."

Harry decided to humour them. "Okay, fine, so say I have green eyes. What the hell does that matter?"

"It matters because it means that you may not be Henry Lestrange," Black said.

Harry just stared at the teachers like they were insane, which, they probably were. "What the hell are you talking about?" he demanded. "I am Henry Lestrange, you idiots. My mother is Bellatrix Lestrange. Who the hell do you think I am?"

"Harry Potter," Dumbledore said simply.

Harry stared at the group for a moment before bursting into laughter. He couldn't help it; he was furious, but this was freaking hilarious. "Harry Potter? Are you a nutter? My mother murdered Harry Potter years ago! Potter's dead!"

The teachers were not laughing, but rather staring at him with solemn faces; Lily was even in tears.

Suddenly, Harry didn't find this funny anymore. They seriously believed that this was the case.

"Are you crazy?" he repeated. "My mother killed Harry Potter – why would she take him with her?"

"There is much we do not know yet, Henry," Dumbledore said, "but the circumstantial evidence we have is too much to ignore."

"What evidence?" Harry roared. "Charming me with green eyes is not evidence!"

James fished in his cloak for a moment and drew out a ragged piece of paper. "This Map cannot lie, Henry."

"Map?" Harry repeated, bewildered. "That's a blank piece of parchment."

James pressed the tip of his wand to the parchment and said, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Lines blossomed from the wandtip, until it formed something that looked, indeed, like a Map.

Harry had never seen anything like it and he had to admit, he was fascinated.

James pointed to a particular place on the Map. "There," he said. "The Map shows everyone by the name they were given who are in Hogwarts at the present time. It cannot lie."

Harry leaned forward, looking where James indicated. Sitting in a semi-circle were seven little dots, reading _Poppy Pomfrey, Severus Snape, Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, Lily Potter, James Potter, Sirius Black_. These dots were surrounding another: _Harry Potter._

If this was supposed to be some miraculous piece of evidence, Harry thought it was rather pathetic. He didn't see this as tangible proof at all. A piece of parchment that transformed into a Map said he was Harry Potter? What rubbish was that?

He leaned back and stared at the people around him. "So let me get this straight. You all are under the impression that I am Harry Potter, the boy my mother murdered more than fifteen years ago. Your proof is that you changed my eyes to green and Map that 'cannot lie' says I'm Harry Potter." He snorted. "You are all crazy."

"It's true," Lily said, looking up at him. "There's no other explanation. The Map cannot, _cannot_ lie, Henry. Harry."

Whoa. Too far. Harry had thought of himself as Harry, a simple nickname for Henry, but no longer. He was not Harry. He was Henry. Henry Lestrange.

"There is a way to prove this," Dumbledore said. "A blood exam will tell us the truth."

Henry's eyes narrowed immediately at this. He himself knew how to make potions and create spells using someone's blood. If he gave these Light people his blood, they could make similar potions (Henry doubted they knew how to make the Dark ones he was thinking of) to control him.

Madam Pomfrey reached for his left arm, where his Dark Mark was unconcealed. "May I?"

Henry yelped and jumped back from her to his feet. Everyone else got to their feet as well. "No – no, I can't deal with this right now," Henry rambled, trying to get out of there. "I – I'm gonna go lie down and think about this okay? I won't leave the castle," he added, although he had every intention of leaving the castle, "and then tomorrow we can deal with this. But ... but I just need some time to think about this. This is all too much."

They all looked suspicious of his sudden change of heart and everyone looked to Lily and James for their approval that he could leave. Rage bubbled in Henry – they were not his parents, they had no authority over him.

"All right," Lily said, finally. "But we'll take the blood exam tomorrow to make sure, understood?"

Henry clenched his jaw, but he nodded. "Can I go now?" he asked, through his teeth.

James and Lily nodded and Harry turned on the spot, storming from Dumbledore's office. As the door closed behind him, he heard Sirius Black say, "Is there any way that this is wrong?"

Of course there was a way that this was wrong! Henry thought to himself, as he marched through the corridors. There was no way this was _right_!

The Gryffindors he had gone to Hogsmeade with were in the Common Room when he arrived there, but he shoved them and their questions away from himself with a wordless charm as he made his way up to his dormitory.

He locked the door behind him and then ran to his trunk, fishing through it for his mirror. It was there and he held it up to his face.

It was blank for a moment, only showing Henry's own reflection, which, horrifyingly, had green eyes.

Then, the Dark Lord's face appeared in the mirror. "Ah. We've been expecting you."

Henry started to explain what had happened, excluding the part about why Dumbledore had wanted to speak with him. Voldemort let him speak for several minutes and then said, "Silence."

Henry fell silent, but when Voldemort said nothing, Henry asked, "Is Draco with you?"

Voldemort nodded.

"Is he all right?"

"Draco is alive, yes," the Dark Lord said, something cruel lining his tone. "Barely."

"Barely?" Henry repeated, his voice cracking on the word. "What do you mean?"

Voldemort waved his hand and the mirror swirled to a corner of the room. Draco sat there, covered in blood. Chains held him to the floor, his robes ripped open, and what looked like whip marks marred his pale chest. His eyes were shut, puffy and bruised.

Henry's mouth fell open in horror. "Draco – Draco, oh Merlin, what happened?"

"You failed, that is what happened," Voldemort said. His voice was so close that Henry thought that he was in the same room with the Dark Lord. "This is the punishment for failure." The mirror turned back to Voldemort, who was pacing the room. It seemed magically able to follow his movements.

Henry was speechless for several seconds. Then he immediately launched into a string of apologies and promises to do better, when Voldemort held up a hand.

"I wouldn't be apologizing for Malfoy – apologize for your _mother_." The way he said the word 'mother' made Henry's hair stand up on end.

_Voldemort knew._

"Bellatrix," Voldemort called out. "Stand."

From the angle of the mirror, Henry could see his mother get to her feet. Her face was bloodless, making her kohl rimmed eyes stand out even more. There was a small dribble of blood on her left cheek, obviously from whoever she had been sent to kill that day that she hadn't got the chance to clean yet.

"Yes, my lord?" Bellatrix asked.

"You have betrayed me," Voldemort said, clearly.

"My lord?" Bellatrix repeated, sounding bewildered. "I have never betrayed you."

The Death Eaters that Henry could see in the mirror all looked to Bellatrix, each with their own expression: shock, smugness, horror and disbelief. He noticed that Lucius and Narcissa looked very pale (Narcissa looked like she was in tears), but Rabastan just sat there, stone-faced.

Voldemort slowly walked around the length of the table, coming closer to where Bellatrix sat. The mirror followed him and so Harry was able to see what was going on.

"You did," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "On Hallowe'en, 1981."

"Hallowe'en – my lord, I'm – I'm afraid I don't understand."

But Henry did. Voldemort was just as deluded as the Potters and Dumbledore. He thought that Henry was Harry Potter.

He swore, unintentionally out loud. Voldemort looked to the mirror. "See how you have betrayed me, Bellatrix! Look at your _son_."

Bellatrix's gaze, which remained fixed on the Dark Lord for several moments, flickered to Henry. Her mouth opened slightly and she rose from her chair, walking closer to the mirror. Voldemort stepped out of the way, watching her closely.

"Henry," Bellatrix whispered. "Your eyes."

Henry nodded once, afraid of speaking.

"What happened to you?" she asked, taking another step towards the mirror. "Who did this to you?"

"No one did _this_ to him," Voldemort said, clearly. "His black eyes were 'done'. By you."

Bellatrix looked to the Dark Lord. "What? My lord, no, I _never_ –"

"Then explain why Henry Lestrange looks like Harry Potter!" Voldemort shouted. Bellatrix flinched away.

"My lord, that is not Harry Potter –"

"I saw the boy standing there, in front of James and Lily Potter! He is Harry Potter, the boy you 'murdered!' He looks like Potter with the Mudblood's eyes! On the Hallowe'en where I sent you to murder Harry Potter, you betrayed me!"

"My lord –"

"You took the child, the child whose death meant everything to Lord Voldemort, with you!"

Bellatrix looked baffled and horrified. "I would never have done that, my lord. Never."

"Ah, but I believe you did. Perhaps your own Henry fell sick and you felt the urge to switch the dead body of your blood and flesh with that of a Mudblood's child?"

Suddenly, what Voldemort was accusing Bellatrix of seemed to hit her. "No, my lord!" she pleaded, desperately. "I haven't – that isn't Harry Potter! It's Henry, _Henry_, my son _Henry _–"

"Insanity is not an excuse," Voldemort proclaimed. He pointed his wand at Bellatrix, fury in his eyes. "Not this time."

"My lord –"

"I never thought you would be the one to betray me, Bellatrix," Voldemort said, his voice as dark as night. "But you have and there is only one option left for me."

He raised his wand.

Bellatrix screamed. "No, please –"

Henry shouted in alarm, true fear running through his veins. "My lord, please, you've got it wrong, please, don't hurt my mother –"

"Your mother?" Voldemort said, laughing coldly. He left the floating mirror where it was and returned to the table where the Death Eaters still sat, frozen. "She is not your mother, Harry Potter. She is a traitor and deserves what she is about to get." He looked straight at Bellatrix and pointed his wand at her. "I hope you enjoy this," Voldemort said, addressing Henry.

"My lord –" Bellatrix began, tears glistening in her eyes. "Please –"

"There is nothing left to say, Bellatrix," Voldemort said, his voice clear.

Bellatrix looked away from him and then over to the mirror, her eyes locking with emerald ones.

"No, no, Mother, no!" Henry shouted. "Mother, Apparate away!"

Bellatrix was looking at Henry as if she was looking at a stranger. "Henry?" she asked, in a whisper.

"Yes, Mother, it's me," Henry said, pleading with her now. "Mother –"

Bellatrix took a step towards the mirror, but Voldemort, alert at her movement, shouted, "_Avada Kedavra_!"

Bellatrix let out a scream and then a sickeningly green light hit her in the chest, the light illuminating the room in the mirror and Harry's dorm room.

Henry screamed and nearly dropped the mirror. He caught in his hands, and looked back to the scene in Riddle Manor.

Bellatrix collapsed on the spot, her last cry echoing strangely in the room as her body thudded to the ground.

The echo seemed to stretch for a long time, and Henry was still aware that he was screaming when Bellatrix's shout faded from existence.

"No, no! No! Mother! No!"

Not even sparing Bellatrix's body a glance, Voldemort strode over to the mirror and he stared at Henry, his red eyes cold and merciless. He said nothing and then the mirror's image faded away.

"No! No! Mother!" Henry screamed again and dropped the mirror. It shattered at his feet, his last physical connection to Bellatrix broken and gone, just as she now was.

* * *

A/N: I hate killing characters ... it makes me sad. Cheer me up with some reviews! Oh and a quick note: some of the reviews I've gotten for this chapter already seem to think that this automatically means Henry is going to become Light. They couldn't be more wrong; this is going to send Henry spiralling in the other direction, and he won't end up Light.


	19. Broken Foundations

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! You guys astound me constantly with your warm reception to this story! Once again, sorry about the update time – I hope you can forgive me – the last few months of school were nuts and this chapter has been hell to write. Like actually. I've never had such a problem with a story as much as I did with this chapter but one day I just got inspiration and BAM. The chapter was done like that!

But, besides that – who saw Deathly Hallows Part Two and loved it? ME! What an amazing movie and a fantastic end to the series! Enough of me ... Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to the wonderful JK Rowling.

**Chapter Nineteen – Broken Foundations **

For a moment, everything was silent. The sound of the mirror breaking and Henry's scream had both faded from the room and Henry stood in the middle of a puddle of broken glass in complete shock. The scene he had just witnessed replayed itself over and over again in front of his eyes – Bellatrix's last, terrified shriek; the jet of green light hitting her; her wide, black eyes growing dim as life left them forever...

He stared at his hands, which were still open as if they were holding the mirror. A part of him realized what had just happened to Bellatrix, but a stronger, wilder part of him was screaming that he had to run to Riddle Manor and save her.

Following the insane logic of the latter part, Henry dropped to his knees onto the shards, receiving stinging, shallow cuts in the process, and picked several pieces up. They were too small to see any reflection, so he dropped them and desperately searched through the pieces until he found the biggest one. Bleeding from small cuts on his hands, Henry held up the piece and looked into it. Instead of seeing the Dark Lord's meeting room with Bellatrix alive and well, all it reflected was one wide, emerald eye.

Disgusted, Henry threw the shard away from him. It hit the opposite wall, above Weasley's bed, and shattered even further. Henry sank down onto his bed and leaned back, staring at the ceiling with dead eyes. The last part of wild hope had been extinguished and a harsh, cold reality set it.

She was gone.

His mother, the only parent Henry had ever known, was gone. She'd never again laugh at his stupid jokes, never again yell at him for disobedience. There would be no more running into Lestrange Manor, eager to see her after she'd been gone for so long. Because this time she was gone for good. In the blink of an eye, everything had changed. Henry's world was forever altered because, now, he was an orphan. Rodolphus' absence had always been a gap in Henry's life, but Bellatrix had been there to fill it. She had been both mother and father to him, but now ... now he'd lost her too. She'd been taken from Henry and, Henry thought, grief-stricken, that she could never be brought back.

She'd been murdered by the one person Henry thought he could always look up to and who Bellatrix had loved more than anyone else in the world. Tears of fury began to stream down Henry's face and, although he hadn't cried in years, he did nothing to stop them. He turned over and grabbed a pillow, muffling his sobs and holding onto the pillow like it was his last tether to life.

How could Voldemort have done this? It wasn't fair! Bellatrix had served him faithfully for more than two decades, but the Dark Lord had thrown away all that loyalty to believe filth and lies spread by the Order of the Phoenix. How could he believe Dumbledore's filthy lies and not Bellatrix's earnest truth? Didn't he see what the old man had done? He'd manipulated his way into having the Dark Lord kill Bellatrix! The Dark Lord was stupid, Henry thought bitterly. He had fallen for one of Dumbledore's simplest of ploys and paying the price for his stupidity was Henry, now motherless.

Fury invaded Henry now and he cried even harder. She had been innocent and because of lies, because of lies that the Order had spread about Henry, she was gone. Suddenly, an overwhelming sense of guilt enveloped him and his breath caught on a sob. It was his fault. The Order believed he was Harry Potter and because of that wild fantasy that threatened to shame and frighten him, Voldemort had killed her. It was his fault. Whatever Henry had done to make everyone believe that he was Harry Potter had been the reason for Bellatrix's death.

"No," he moaned into his pillow. "No, no, no."

Behind his eyes, the scene had started to replay again. Henry's protests, Bellatrix's confusion, Voldemort's fury ... it all played out in front of him and Henry was powerless to change what had happened.

There was a sound from the Common Room below, probably one of Seamus Finnigan's spells backfiring again, and Henry jolted out of his reverie. Throwing the tear and blood stained pillow away from himself, he catapulted to his feet, wordlessly Summoned his wand, and burst the door open without a word or a touch. He didn't care that his hands were still bleeding, nor that tear streaks were embedded on his face because right now, that didn't matter.

He stumbled down the spiral staircase and entered the Common Room. It fell silent at his entrance. He saw Weasley and Longbottom frozen in front of a chess board, staring at him with wide eyes. Granger sat near them, clutching an open book to her chest with alarm written all over her face. Henry shoved two frozen first years out of his way and clambered out the portrait hole. He wasn't sure where he was going, but he just had to get away from the dorm room where the world had fallen apart.

* * *

The Common Room had remained quiet after Henry Lestrange's abrupt departure, but things were slowly starting to pick up again. Neville and Ron had resumed their chess game, but Neville could barely pay attention to it.

"Did you see how Henry's hands were covered in blood?" Neville demanded of Ron and Hermione.

Ron shrugged, focused on the game. "Yeah, I did."

"And did you hear him yelling earlier?"

Ron nodded again, sighing. "It's probably nothing, Neville. He probably just cut himself on something and was going to the Hospital Wing to get it fixed."

From beside Ron, Hermione snorted. "I doubt that," she said quietly. "Henry Lestrange going to the Hospital Wing for a cut?"

"Exactly!" Neville said, leaning forward. "Isn't it very odd? First, Henry's acting all weird in Hogsmeade and suddenly Dumbledore shows up to take him away? Then he comes down from the dorms after yelling and with his hands all bloody? Doesn't that scream suspicious to you?"

Hermione kept quiet, her eyes darting nervously from Neville to Ron.

Ron looked unperturbed. "So what?" he said, moving his queen on the board. "Checkmate."

Neville didn't even care that he'd just lost his fourth game in a row. "Guys, seriously. Something's up with him."

"You don't want to get involved with Henry Lestrange," Hermione said. "Trust me."

"Well, you would know," Ron said dryly, but a look from Hermione silenced him.

Neville shook his head at the both of them and got to his feet. "Come on. We're going to check on him."

Ron and Hermione exchanged a look, but since Neville was already on his way out, they got up and followed.

* * *

When Henry was running down the fourth floor corridor a sudden force of realization hit him. He came to a complete stop in the middle of the hallway, staring ahead of him at nothing in particular. There was no point of hurrying to Riddle Manor, as Henry's subconscious had so subtly been hinting at. Bellatrix was gone and nothing Henry ever did could bring her back.

His knees could no longer support him. Henry crumbled to the ground and crawled to the nearest wall, leaning against it and dropping his face into his hands. This time, he didn't cry outright, but tears were rolling off his cheeks and into his lap. He grabbed handfuls of his hair and held them tightly, relishing in the pain that blossomed in his scalp. He was somewhat aware that the blood from his hands was now mixing with his tears, but he didn't care that he probably looked like an axe murderer.

He wanted to scream until his throat was bloody, and rip his hair out so the pain of losing Bellatrix could be masked by a simple, physical pain. But even if he went to the ends of the earth and back, did everything in his power to bring her back, she was gone. There was nothing he could do to save her now, but there was one thing that he could do, one thing that he knew would ease some pain.

He could get revenge.

The furious side of him revelled in his idea and urged him onwards. Voldemort had killed Bellatrix and now Henry was going to kill him. He felt a small thrill at the thought. It'd been a long time since he'd really had a mission – getting Longbottom had turned into such a wild goose chase Henry couldn't even consider it a mission any longer. Having a brand new mission would take Henry's mind off of Bellatrix's death –

"Henry?"

He jolted at the sound of the voice. The tears on his cheeks had mostly dried already, but he quickly swiped the remnants away and looked up to see who had interrupted his plotting.

It was Hermione, Neville and Ron. All three looked very nervous and Neville was the one who'd spoken.

"What?" Henry demanded brusquely, scrambling to his feet and turning away slightly to wipe his cheeks once more. He was embarrassed that he'd been caught so vulnerable, but tried to bring up his cold demeanour once more.

Neville hesitated. "I – we just wanted to see if you were all right. You left the Common Room so quickly and your hands were bleeding, so –"

"So what?" Henry snapped, turning to face the group. "I accidently cut myself."

"Told you," Ron muttered.

Neville looked uncomfortable. "I just wanted to make sure that you were okay," he repeated.

"I'm fine," Henry said curtly, willing them to leave him alone to his misery.

"You do realize that your face is covered in blood," Hermione said wryly.

He gave her the dirtiest look he could manage in his current state and waved his hand in front of his face. The blood from his cheeks disappeared and he stared pointedly at Hermione. "There. See? I'm fine."

Neville spoke again. "Are you sure you're okay? People don't usually wail and scream when they cut themselves," he pointed out.

Henry glared furiously at him, the tip of his spare wand pressing into his palm as he prepared to draw it. "I'm fine," he repeated, for the third time, his voice tightly controlled. "Now, please leave me alone."

The trio hesitated again, but at Ron's look, they started to leave. A bit of relief hit Henry, but then Neville paused. "What did Dumbledore want from you in Hogsmeade?" he asked innocently.

Instantly, the reminder of Dumbledore brought the rage back. "Nothing," Henry spat. "Nothing that you three losers need to be concerned about, okay?"

"We were just trying to be nice," Ron spat back. "You'd think that because Malfoy is treating you like crap that you'd want some friends –"

Henry froze at the mention of his cousin. How could he have been so stupid? All thoughts had been focused on Bellatrix, but he'd forgotten about Draco, Draco who was currently being tortured by Voldemort.

Ron, Hermione and Neville were staring at him; his expression must've tipped them off that something wasn't right.

"What?" Hermione demanded. "What's wrong?"

Henry ignored her. Draco was still with the Dark Lord and if Henry didn't rescue him, Draco would be murdered just like Bellatrix. Murdering Voldemort would have to wait. Draco was one of the last remaining family members Henry had and Henry wouldn't lose anyone else to that man.

"I need to go save him," he said aloud, turning away from the group and beginning to walk down the hall.

"Save who?" Ron roared, confused. "Honestly, Neville, the bloke's a lunatic –"

Neville ignored Ron and hurried to catch up with Henry. "Save who?" he repeated, more gently than Ron. "Henry –"

"Go away, Longbottom," Henry snapped, speeding up slightly to lose him.

However, Neville was not going to be lost that easily. "Now, hold on just a second!" he cried. "Save who? You can't just leave Hogwarts all by yourself –"

"And why not?" Henry asked, continuing on his way.

"Well, for starters," Neville said, easily keeping pace. The other two followed behind. "I won't let you go by yourself. You seem to have just freaked out over something and I don't think it's just a cut on your finger."

Henry didn't say anything, hoping that if he ignored the trio they'd leave him alone to go and rescue Draco in peace.

Neville, however, took his silence for a yes. "You're too riled up to be going anywhere by yourself." He paused and then said, daringly, "I'm betting this has something to do with Malfoy." Henry kept his silence. Again, Neville saw this as a yes. "Where is he? Did something happen to him? Is he okay?"

Ron made a noise of annoyance. "Neville, come on, he's not going to tell us anything. Besides, if something happened to Malfoy, then good on whoever did it to him –"

Henry turned on Ron then, snarling. Ron, surprised, took a step backwards, his hands up in defence. "You have no idea who you just congratulated, Weasley," he spat.

"Hey," Neville said, stepping in between the two. "We don't have time for this, do we, Henry?" Henry stared at him, furious. Neville was right – this was wasting valuable time! Draco was near death and here Henry was, arguing with the Chosen One.

"What do you want from me?" Henry demanded. "I don't need your help, so you might as well get lost."

Hermione spoke, understanding suddenly dawning in her eyes, "I think I know what happened. You Know Who's got Malfoy, doesn't he?"

"_What_?" Ron demanded. "How the bloody hell did you figure that out?"

"You're right, Hermione!" Neville cried. "You two ran away from him, didn't you?"

Henry stared at Neville, bewildered. Suddenly, he remembered that the story they'd told all the Hogwarts students and staff was just that. "Yeah," he said, trying to sound reluctant. "He's found Draco and now he's torturing him."

All three Gryffindors sucked in their breaths as one. "You Know Who's _torturing_ Malfoy?" Hermione repeated, sounding dubious. "I thought that –"

"Well, you thought wrong," Henry spat, aware that Hermione had been about to say that he and Draco were Voldemort's favourites. "Things have changed."

"Apparently," she said, coolly.

"So Voldemort has Malfoy and you're going to rescue him from the Death Eaters' Headquarters all by yourself, are you?" Neville demanded. "That is the stupidest plan I've ever heard."

Ron and Hermione nodded in agreement and Henry rolled his eyes. "I don't time for this. If you think it's such a stupid idea, then leave me alone."

"No," Neville said, loudly. "I'm not letting you do this by yourself."

Henry sighed loudly and said, furiously, "None of you are coming with me. I'm going to get Draco and I'm doing it alone."

"I'm coming with you," Neville said stubbornly. "Listen, even if you don't like it, we can help you."

Henry snorted. "I seriously doubt that."

"Listen!" Neville sounded impatient for the first time. He grabbed Henry's arm and stopped him, staring at him in the face. "If Malfoy is hurt then I'm guessing that Voldemort is holding him hostage. Can you seriously see yourself rescuing Malfoy and battling off You Know Who and the Death Eaters all by yourself?"

Henry wrenched himself out of Neville's grasp and walking, but he had to admit– Longbottom had a point. From what Henry had seen Draco was badly injured and if Henry was going to be breaking into Riddle Manor he definitely couldn't be distracted by trying to stabilize Draco.

Ron held up a hand. "Wait, Neville, you're serious here? You're planning on going to You Know Who's headquarters with _Henry Lestrange _to save Draco Malfoy? Are you crazy?"

"Of course!" he replied. "I mean, of course to the first part." He shook his head and continued, "Listen, Ron, I've been waiting my whole life to do something that matters. This does! Voldemort is hurting Malfoy and we need to stop it, right? That's the right thing to do."

Henry was starting to care very little whether or not the whole school came with him or not – he just needed to get to Riddle Manor right away.

"All right!" Henry said finally, over another one of Neville's rants. He immediately fell silent and looked at him expectantly. "You can come, but I'm not going to be looking out for any of you, understood? You'll all be on your own."

Neville nodded eagerly. "I understand."

Hermione was staring at Henry with a dark expression. "So what's first?"

Henry stared at her in surprise. "You're coming too?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, Henry. I'm not going to let you take Neville to You Know Who's headquarters all by yourself."

There would be no convincing Hermione otherwise, Henry knew. Ron looked outraged that both his friends were walking into certain death and spoke so vehemently. "Now hold on just a second," Ron cried. "You're all three just going to walk into You Know Who's own territory without a plan?"

"Yep, pretty much," Henry called back, already walking away.

"Oh, fantastic," Ron said. "We're going to walk into this thing blind then."

"We?" Henry demanded.

Ron snorted. "Well I can't let my best mates go running off to their deaths without me, can I? Besides, you've completely gone round the bend - you just came running out of Gryffindor Tower with blood all over you and bawling your eyes out."

"I wasn't crying," Henry interrupted.

"Yeah, and I'm not a ginger." He rolled his eyes. "It's settled. We'll all go."

Henry had enough. If the stupid Gryffindors wanted to come and get themselves killed, then so be it. "Fine," he said. "We'll all go."

"Um, go where, exactly?" Hermione asked. "You haven't actually told us where You Know Who's headquarters are."

"I can't tell you where it is," Henry snarled impatiently. "There's a Fidelius Charm on it, you utter idiot."

"Oh, I'm the idiot?" she said shrilly. "Who has been saving your arse for a year and a half?"

Henry had no time for a lecture from Hermione and so he just shook his head at her, pinching his nose in frustration. "Okay, listen. It's after curfew, right? Well, none of us are allowed are to leave the grounds. A teacher will see us and I can't deal with any more interruptions. We need to get something from the dorm first."

"What?"

Henry grimaced and said, "My Invisibility Cloak."

* * *

The meeting room in Riddle Manor had been silent since the green light had struck Bellatrix Lestrange, all the seated Death Eaters wide-eyed and terrified. No one would have ever expected the Dark Lord to turn on Bellatrix, his most loyal and devoted servant. If he could kill her without batting an eyelash, then what would he do to them?

Voldemort was still in the room, pacing. The mirror which he'd been using to communicate with Henry Lestrange (or ... Harry Potter?) had stopped following him and was floating uselessly behind him.

Draco Malfoy, who was chained to the opposite wall let out a moan then and Voldemort stopped walking.

"Get him out of here," he hissed.

Not a Death Eater dared to move.

Voldemort turned to look at them, his red eyes murderous. "Get him out of here!" he screamed, spit flaying from his mouth in his fury. He waved his hand at Draco and the chains holding him disappeared. He crumbled to the ground and lay still.

Narcissa got to her feet immediately and hurried over to her son. She spoke softly to him for a moment and then waved her wand. He gently started to float upwards with Narcissa's magic, revealing the black bruises on his face that made his features almost indistinguishable.

"Don't remove him from this Manor!" Voldemort screamed. "He is to stay here until I say otherwise!"

"Yes, my lord," Narcissa whispered faintly, her voice hoarse and terrified, as she directed Draco out the room. She spared one look to her husband, who was still seated, and then one at the fallen body of her sister and left, the door closing firmly behind her.

Returning to his pacing, Voldemort's thoughts were racing.

If Bellatrix, _Bellatrix_, could betray him, who was to say that none of these others had done the same thing? They were all human; they were all capable of disloyalty... Nagini slithered up to him and hissed words of comfort, but Voldemort was too agitated to listen to her.

"Take it," Voldemort said suddenly. He twirled to face his stone cold Death Eaters and their blank faces. "Get the body out of here!" Once more, no one stood and Voldemort felt another flood of rage. Before he could yell out a sweep of curses, Rabastan Lestrange got to his feet. He had been silent since Voldemort killed Bellatrix and now he didn't speak. His face was expressionless and he didn't seem affected at all by the death of his sister-in-law. Still silent, Rabastan levitated Bellatrix's body from where it'd fallen on the floor. Her black hair nearly reached the floor as her neck lolled back, her dark eyes still wide with shock.

Voldemort strode over to Rabastan and grabbed his arm, gripping it tightly. He hissed, "Seal off the Lestrange Manor. Take Death Eaters and patrol it constantly. Inform me right away if _he _shows up."

Rabastan's eyes hardened at the mention of his (until recently) nephew. "Of course, my lord."

Voldemort released him and Rabastan left the room. He paused before leaving and jerked his head to a few Death Eaters, Lucius Malfoy included, who rose and followed him out.

There was silence again and then Voldemort motioned for them all to leave. With one giant move, all the remaining Death Eaters hurried from the meeting room, shutting the door with an echoing finality behind them.

Lord Voldemort was alone once more, alone with only his thoughts.

How could Harry Potter have been living under his roof for fifteen years when he had no idea? Harry Potter now knew spells and Dark Magic that he could use against the Dark Lord, the man who had taught him those spells! Voldemort had _trusted_ him with the most important mission of all time – to get Longbottom – and now look ...

Voldemort suddenly stopped his pacing and gripped the back of his chair at the table. Now both boys who were destined to kill him were alive! He screamed in fury and all the chairs in the room were shot back from their seats at the table at the explosive force the rage had done to his magic.

Disgusted, Voldemort turned from the table and began his furious march around the room again. Longbottom would be easier to kill than Potter and Potter was more of a target – apparently the boy was able to avoid death for years!

He swept from the room then, intent on planning Harry Potter's murder as soon as possible. But, for now, Voldemort needed an escape from Riddle Manor and all the revelations that this place had just brought him. Sweeping Nagini, who had followed him out, into his arms, Lord Voldemort left the Manor and soon after, once he had reached the grounds, Apparated to Thistle Estates, his final sanctuary.

* * *

It had taken a lot of guts for Henry to return to his dorm room to get the Cloak, but he swallowed the troubling thoughts and retrieved it quickly.

The Gryffindors had waited outside and then the four of them had hurried outside to the grounds. People were still trickling in from Hogsmeade, but no one paid any attention to four Gryffindors heading in the opposite direction.

They were approaching the gates out of the school when suddenly Henry came to a stop. He stared at his feet, incredulous, but no matter what he did, he could not take a step forwards.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked. The other three were a few feet ahead of him, but had stopped when they noticed Henry hadn't kept up.

"I don't know!" Henry snapped. "I can't move any further." Thinking that perhaps a spell had been cast on him to immobilize him, he tried stepping backwards. That he did with no problem, but when he tried to join the trio, he was stopped again.

"What's going on?" he demanded of the trio.

They came back to join him, but nothing that they tried could make Henry move any closer to the gates. Ron and Neville tried pulling him, but they just catapulted themselves when Henry was stopped. Hermione tried some spells; they all failed. Furious, Henry tried all manner of Dark Magic to get forward and that did nothing.

"It's the wards!" Hermione shouted suddenly. "Someone must've put up a barrier against you leaving!"

Henry instantly knew exactly what was going on here. The Order knew that Henry wasn't going to accept their ludicrous theory that he was Harry Potter so they were going to keep him prisoner here until he did.

Those bastards.

He started walking again, back up to the castle, leaving a startled Hermione, Ron and Neville behind him for several moments. "Hey!" they all shouted in unison. "Where are you going?"

"To see Dumbledore," Henry snarled. "He's going to lift these wards if that's that last thing he does."

"Henry!"

Ignoring Hermione, Henry barrelled his way into the Entrance Hall, but the crowds there slowed him down enough for Hermione to catch up to him.

"Stop!" Hermione shouted, grabbing Henry's arm. She dragged him to a small alcove in the hall where only a single painting hung. Ron and Neville caught up to them, but hang back slightly as Hermione pinned Henry against the wall to keep him from running away. "You can't just run up to Dumbledore and demand he lift the wards!"

"Why not?" Henry growled.

Hermione looked incredibly frustrated. "Because he won't do it unless you have a good reason! He probably put the wards up for a certain reason; you think just because you ask he's going to take them down?"

"I'll force him to –"

"Listen to yourself!" Hermione screamed. "You can't stop and think for one minute, can you? You can't run into his office and just demand it! You need a plan; you need an excuse for him to bring the wards down!"

"What do you suggest, Granger?" Henry roared. "Tell him that my cousin is being tortured by the Dark Lord?"

"Well, why can't the Order come too?" Neville asked innocently. "They –" Henry gave him the darkest look he could muster and Neville shut his mouth.

Hermione was silent for a moment and Henry stared at her, rage bubbling under his skin. Finally, she said, "Dumbledore won't lift the wards, but I bet that if you get him to accompany you of the grounds you'll be free."

Henry stared at her and for a moment he realized that she was right. "Fine," he acquiesced. "What's my excuse for needing to get out of Hogwarts?"

Hermione pursed her lips. "I've got an idea, but you're not going to like it." She paused. "You'll have to give me your wand."

Henry stared at her like she was insane. A wizard's wand was like a part of them – it would be like giving Hermione one of his arms. "No."

"Henry –"

"No, absolutely not. You are not getting my wand. Do you think I'm crazy?"

Furiously, Hermione said, "You can't even let me explain can you? You'll blow the whole plan because you can't get over your stupid pride!"

That shut Henry up for a moment and Hermione took the opportunity to speak. "You need Dumbledore to get out of the wards, right? Well, if you go to him and say that you've lost your wand and you haven't had it since we were in Hogsmeade, you'd be able to get out of the grounds. Dumbledore knows you'd never let anyone else go get your wand so you'll have to go with him."

Henry had to admit – that was a good idea, but there was one overwhelming problem with it. "Why do I have to give you my wand?" he demanded.

"Because," Hermione said, impatiently, "what if Dumbledore does the Summoning Charm and your wand comes barrelling out of your coat pocket? Or if he's just able to detect that you have a wand on you? It's just safer if I hold onto it."

Henry tried to stare Hermione down, but she just glared stubbornly back at him. He didn't want to part with his wands, but it was looking like there was no other option. Hermione was right; it would be too risky to hold onto them while they carried out this insane plot.

"Fine," he said, grudgingly. He pulled out his wand and handed it to her, doing quickly to avoid any idea he might have of backing out. Immediately, he felt wrong, as if something was missing and his arm felt strangely weak.

Hermione cleared her throat, her hand still outstretched. "The other one too."

Henry grumbled; _damn_. He pulled out the spare wand he always kept with him and handed it over to her as well.

She smiled briefly and pocketed them.

Henry ran a hand through his hair, feeling flustered and out of sorts without his wands. "Alright, this is what we'll do. You three will go down to Hogsmeade with my Invisibility Cloak and wait on the Three Broomsticks porch for me. When I come by with Dumbledore, don't move. I'll get to the porch somehow and Hermione, you _have _to have my wand ready for me when I get to you on the porch. I can't Apparate without it."

Hermione nodded.

"I'll have to Apparate us there because only someone with a Dark Mark can –" Henry clamped his mouth shut; he couldn't believe he'd been so careless.

"A Dark Mark?" Neville repeated sharply. "What do you mean?"

"Don't worry about that," Henry snapped, giving Hermione a dangerous look. She knew and having one Hogwarts student know that Henry was a Death Eater was bad enough.

Neville wasn't going to give up that easily. "Henry, you just said we need someone with a Dark Mark to ..." Neville trailed off and then looked at Henry with a wary expression. "Oh."

Ron still didn't understand, so Henry rolled his eyes. There was no point hiding it now; if Longbottom knew, Weasley would know too. He quickly glanced around to make sure they were alone and then pulled his sleeve up. The Dark Mark had been covered by a thin glamour, but Henry waved his hand over it and it disappeared. Luckily, not all magic required a wand. The black Mark stood out violently against his pale skin. Henry had never been so revolted by the sight of it.

"Whoa," Ron whispered, staring up at Henry, his voice full of morbid fascination.

Henry grimaced and pushed his sleeve back down. "Now let's go."

* * *

The Gryffindors left Henry in the corridor, taking the Invisibility Cloak and Henry's two wands, stowed carefully in Hermione's cloak, with them. Henry felt strangely naked without either of the wands, but he tried to push that feeling down as he walked to Dumbledore's office.

He hesitated outside the door, trying to remember the password that he'd heard earlier when he'd been taken here by the Potters. "Liquorice Snaps?" he asked.

Surprisingly, that was correct and so Henry hurried up to the office. He didn't pause before knocking on the door and entering the room without an invitation.

Dumbledore was standing near the wall behind his desk, gazing at the portraits. He turned and looked at Henry. "Ah, the man of the hour." Taking a step towards Henry, Dumbledore paused and then spoke, light-heartedly, "I confess, I find myself at a loss as to what name to call you. Henry, Harry ... both are similar, but only one is your true name."

Henry had no time for this nonsense right now. "I think," he said, his voice carefully controlled, "that we should keep it to Henry for now. Professor," he added pointedly. "Until we know for sure."

Dumbledore nodded. "Very good idea. Henry. Now, I assume that you can only have a very good reason for coming to see me; why don't we get straight to the point."

Yes, why didn't they, thought Henry. "Yes, well, you see ... sir, I think I've lost my wand." Even to Henry's own ears, it sounded pathetic.

"Lost your wand?" repeated Dumbledore. "Oh dear, that is troubling."

Feeling incredibly stupid and like a four year old telling his parent that he'd flushed his goldfish down the toilet, which Henry had actually done, he said, "Yes, it really is. I've searched the dorm room for it but I can't find it and the last place I remember having it was at the Shrieking Shack." Inventing now, Henry added, "I think that when I was hit with that Finite Charm, I dropped my wand and was too flustered to really pick it up."

Dumbledore frowned. "You've checked everywhere else?"

Henry nodded.

There was silence for a few moments and then Dumbledore sighed. "Well, I suppose that we'd better get going. Do you need a cloak, Henry? It's evening out there already."

Henry stared at Dumbledore as the Headmaster fetched a blue cloak for himself from the back of his chair. Had it seriously been that easy? Henry could scarcely believe it! He swiftly declined Dumbledore's offer of a cloak just in case his luck would change and then the pair headed out of the school. They encountered no other teachers on their way out and Henry was thankful for that. To his immense surprise, Dumbledore didn't bring up his "Henry-Lestrange-is-Harry-Potter" theory. Henry wouldn't be able to stand any mention of the thing that had been the reason for Bellatrix's death right now.

The main doors of Hogwarts hadn't been locked yet, but the gates had been. Henry briefly wondered if the Gryffindor trio had managed to get out before the gates had been locked, but it didn't matter now for as Dumbledore approached, the gates swung open, their iron hinges creaking loudly into the silent twilight.

Henry thought he saw a three pairs of feet hurrying through the gate, but they vanished as soon as he'd spotted them and so he continued on the way with Dumbledore, purposely walking slowly to give the Gryffindors the ability to get to the Three Broomsticks ahead of him.

Dumbledore didn't seem to notice this; he was talking about the weather and what a beautiful night it was. Henry was completely ignoring him, focused on his impending escape.

After trudging down the steep hill, they arrived in the town of Hogsmeade several minutes later. The Three Broomsticks was located on the main street of Hogsmeade and the quickest way to the Shrieking Shack was by passing right by it.

The cafe loomed suddenly ahead of Dumbledore and Henry, its logo of three intersected broomsticks glowing golden in the evening light. Henry was thinking about when would be a good moment to dart away when Dumbledore suddenly came to a stop. Henry looked at him, trying to keep a controlled expression on his face. "Sir?"

The Headmaster looked at Henry and frowned. "I think this is far enough, Henry. Or have you given up on your plan of escape?"

Henry stared at him, his mind racing. This was not good. "Err, what?" he asked, playing dumb.

"Your plan to rescue Mr Malfoy," Dumbledore said calmly. "Yes," he added, at Henry's expression, "I know. Do not think that I have not noticed Mr Malfoy's absence today at Hogwarts. You are going to rescue him, are you not?"

Henry could only gawk at the Headmaster and then, before he could stop himself, he blurted out, "You can't stop me."

"I wouldn't even dream of it, Henry." Dumbledore sounded ... offended? "Familial bonds, whether biological or not, can be powerful things, and you think of Draco Malfoy as your cousin. You will leave to save him either tonight, tomorrow or some other night, and I could not stop you even if I made it my life goal. Besides, like you, I'd prefer to have him return here alive and well as soon as possible." He paused and then continued, "I know you have not lost your wand, Henry, so there is no reason for us to continue on to the Shrieking Shack when you could Apparate away simply from here. Although I think that would require Miss Granger handing it over, would it not?"

Unable to believe that Dumbledore seemingly knew the whole plan, Henry demanded, "How do you know all this?"

"The portraits," Dumbledore said simply. "Sir Cadogan was keeping an eye on you and he told me that Miss Granger is currently in possession of your wand and will be standing on the Three Broomsticks porch at this exact moment."

Ah, so not ghosts, Henry thought, a little bit wryly. Paintings. That's how the Order was keeping an eye on him.

Dumbledore had turned to look at the Three Broomsticks and was tilting his head to the side. "Miss Granger, you do not need to remain hidden. I am well aware that you are there. Mr Weasley, Mr Longbottom, the same goes for you."

The porch remained still for a moment and then Hermione appeared in view. Her hair ruffled, she looked incredibly sheepish and muttered an apology as she pulled the Invisibility Cloak off the two others. Ron looked more red-faced than usual and Neville was staring at his shoes. "Sorry, Professor," he said.

"No apologies needed, Neville," Dumbledore said. He seemed to be enjoying himself. "You are helping Henry and that is an honourable deed, not one to apologize for." He looked back to Henry and continued, "So, as I understand it, Lord Voldemort has discovered the truth about you and has seemingly decided to punish the innocent Draco for it."

Henry hoped the three Gryffindors hadn't caught Dumbledore's mention of 'the truth' and he snapped at the Headmaster, "That's right. So, if you don't mind, we really need to get going."

Dumbledore acknowledged this with a slight nod. "Of course. There is only one slight problem here: it would be unwise to have both you and Mr Longbottom in the same location as, I imagine, a furious Lord Voldemort. I cannot allow you two to go there alone, even if the capable Miss Granger and Mr Weasley are accompanying you."

"The whole bloody Order is not coming," Henry said furiously. He may be Voldemort's enemy now, but he was _not _going to show the Light side to Riddle Manor itself.

"That would be a cumbersome party and we need to actually get Mr Malfoy tonight," Dumbledore said lightly. "No, I meant me." Henry made a noise of disbelief. "Henry, you know as well as I do that Voldemort is only afraid of me." There was no pride in his voice; it was a simple statement of fact.

Henry would actually prefer to take all the Order members to Riddle Manor one by one and give them a full tour before he'd take Dumbledore there. Then Henry remembered something and he smiled.

"Sir –" began Hermione, but Henry silenced her with a look. "Actually, Professor, I think that's a brilliant idea."

Ron, Neville and Hermione all stared at him, but Dumbledore nodded in triumph. "Excellent. Well, Henry, you're the one with the Dark Mark, so as I believe it –"

The Gryffindors froze in their tracks; Henry nearly fell over at Dumbledore's words. "Pardon?" he asked, through tight lips.

Dumbledore gave him a sad smile. "Sir Cadogan saw more than just the plotting with your fellow Gryffindors, Henry." He shook his head. "We'll speak about that later, but for now, Miss Granger, if you'd please ..."

"What? Oh, yes, of course," Hermione said, sounding flustered. She drew one of Henry's wands from her cloak pocket, clever enough to keep the second concealed for now, and handed it to Henry.

Immediately, Henry felt a sense of reassurance as the familiar holly wand slipped into his palm as easily as if it'd never left. He looked at the group around him. Hermione looked frightened, Ron had a funny expression on his face that was a cross between fear and bravery, Neville just appeared determined and Dumbledore was twirling his thumbs as if he had not a care in the world.

Henry just felt awkward. He'd never thought he'd be going to Riddle Manor with Albus Dumbledore, the Chosen One, a Weasley and a Mudblood to rescue his cousin who had been tortured by Lord Voldemort because the Dark Lord believed that he was Harry Potter and had killed Bellatrix for it. What an odd situation. At one point Henry might've laughed at the absurdity of it all, but the thought of laughing at Bellatrix's murder just silenced that thought in its tracks and sent it scurrying down the hallway of shame.

"Lead on, Henry," Dumbledore prompted. "Have you ever side-Apparated before?"

"Of course," Henry snapped. He sighed and ordered, "Give me your hands, everyone." The group all clasped hands and Henry took a deep breath before turning on the spot, thinking hard of Riddle Manor, the place where the world had come to a standstill.

Henry had never Apparated with so many people before and when his feet slammed into the ground, he was knocked straight over by the force of it. He lay on the ground for several moments, staring up at the dark sky. It was much darker here, as it was farther east than Hogwarts and it didn't help that Henry had Apparated the group into a group of trees on the opposite property from Riddle Manor. The usual twisting and turning of Apparition that always churned Henry's stomach seemed to be multiplied this time and he just felt like lying there for as long as possible.

Then he heard a groan. "So that's what happens when you Apparate with four other people. No wonder my parents always take more than one trip with us," Weasley's voice muttered from somewhere to Henry's left.

Sitting up, Henry saw that the three Gryffindors were also sprawled on the ground near him, rubbing random parts of their bodies that seemed to have gotten injured during Apparition. Dumbledore, however, was nowhere to be found. Henry had been expecting this so, feeling cheerful for the first time in hours, he got to his feet and brushed the dirt off of himself. Ron was the second to get to his feet. Rubbing his head, he looked around and then his brow furrowed. "Where's Dumbledore?" he demanded.

Neville and Hermione sat up at that and looked around. Henry shrugged. "I suppose he couldn't get through the wards. He's probably been sent back to Hogsmeade."

Ron stared at him and then pointed at him accusingly. "'Couldn't get through the wards?' You knew this was going to happen all along!"

Henry shrugged. "So what if I did? There's nothing I could've done about it!"

"You could've told us," Ron hissed. "Now we're going into You-Know-Who's lair all by ourselves! In case you hadn't noticed, _Lestrange_, we're teenagers!"

Henry opened his mouth, but Hermione interrupted him. "We can have this argument later," she snapped. "Can we focus on getting Malfoy and getting out of here?"

Ron gave Henry a lingering glare and then demanded, "So what's first?"

"Get past them," Neville said, from a few feet away.

The three joined him and Henry followed Neville's gaze. About forty metres away stood two hooded Death Eaters. Although the Gryffindors couldn't see it, the pair was guarding the main gate to Riddle Manor.

"How will we do that?" Hermione whispered.

Henry just rolled his eyes and looked hard at the two guarding Death Eaters. His eyes hardened and he said, "We kill them."

* * *

Henry left the Gryffindors in the tree line headed towards Riddle Manor, shrouded in the Invisibility Cloak, his wand drawn and the spare that he'd retrieved from Hermione a few minutes earlier at the ready. The wards around Riddle Manor would allow Henry to enter without raising an alarm and once the two Death Eaters had been taken care of, Henry would come back for the trio.

Henry didn't know these two Death Eaters; they looked young and were probably new. Those were always the ones assigned guard duty. The two were silent, but that made it harder for Henry to sneak up on them. He pointed his wand at the closer of the two, a hooded woman, and whispered, "_Avada Kedavra_."

The green light hit her and she fell right over before her comrade even realized what was going on.

"Hey!" he shouted, drawing his wand.

Wanting to savour this – it wasn't Voldemort, but killing had alleviated some of the pain – Henry took off the Invisibility Cloak and smirked at the man. "Hello, there," Henry said and fired a killing curse at the man. His expression remained bug eyed with shock as he collapsed to the ground, falling next to his fellow.

Pleased, Henry returned to the Gryffindors and nodded at them. Looking slightly afraid of him, the three followed Henry silently. The Invisibility Cloak wasn't big enough to cover them all, but Henry threw it over them regardless, not caring that their feet were very apparent. The Gryffindors hadn't been able to see Riddle Manor from outside the wards, but once they were on the grounds, all three of their jaws dropped.

"This is where You-Know-Who lives?" Ron whispered.

Henry had never really paused to look at the mansion and he did so now. It was massive, soaring four storeys into the sky and made out of dark bricks. All windows were covered with wrought iron leaf designs and every curtain was pulled shut.

"Come on," Henry said, pressing ahead. "We can't waste any time."

It was a long, silent walk up to the large maple double doors. Henry had never walked this route so slowly, so full of apprehension, and it made his belly do strange flip-flops.

The double doors swung open at Henry's arrival; apparently, an Invisibility Cloak couldn't disguise an approaching Death Eater.

The foyer was deserted and Henry was immensely thankful for that. The Gryffindors hadn't mentioned anything about the interior of this room and Henry though he knew why – painted snakes slithered all over the walls, hissing and rattling their tails.

"Where will Malfoy be?" Hermione whispered, as they started to ascend the stairs. She sounded very nervous.

Henry frowned, thinking. It wouldn't be unlike Voldemort to send Draco to the dungeons, but Henry knew that the Dark Lord would've been too angry to even think of ordering that. If it had been up to Narcissa, who most probably would've been tasked with taking care of her son, Draco would be in the Malfoys' private room on the third floor. The Manor was four stories high, not including the attic and the two underground floors, and Henry could navigate this house in his sleep and so it was easy to get to the third floor. Henry only had to change the route to the room once. Two Death Eaters were sitting at the end of the hall, trading Famous Witches and Wizards Cards.

"Pathetic," Ron muttered, shaking his head and following Henry down the other hall.

It was eerily silent in the Manor and Henry had to keep his thoughts onto finding Draco and not from drifting to wonder where Bellatrix's body was, who was looking after it, if arrangements for burial were already underway –

No.

His mind firmly back on Draco, Henry paused. They were already on the third floor and the Malfoy suite was after a few more turns but to get there, the group was going to have to pass by the Lestrange suite. Henry wasn't sure if he could do that.

"Why have we stopped?" Neville said in a low voice.

Henry shook his head, and set his jaw. "No reason. Come on." Continuing, Henry kept his eyes straight ahead as they passed the door that led to the room Henry had nearly grown up in. It was shut, but Henry wanted to burst open the door and run in, desperate to see Bellatrix sitting at her desk like all the times he'd done that before.

It seemed to take an hour to pass the door, but the group did and Henry took a deep breath of relief.

They reached the Malfoy suites and all stopped in front of it. Its door was also closed, and Henry swiftly opened it. They all shuffled inside and then Henry pulled off the Invisibility Cloak.

He looked around and then his heart dropped. Lying on the bed in the centre of the room, his chest bared and bloody, his face bruised and puffy, was Draco. He was unconscious, but breathing slightly. It looked as if someone had been treating his wounds, but he still looked very injured.

Henry went into survival mode. He ran over to his cousin, summoning robes as he did so. He gently propped his cousin up and the robes wrapped themselves around him, shielding the wounds from further damage on the escape route.

"It's going to be alright, Draco," he said softly. "We're going to get you out of here."

Henry picked him up gently, holding Draco in his arms and then turned to the trio. All three were staring at Draco with horrified expressions on their faces.

"What happened to him?" Ron whispered.

"Voldemort," Neville guessed, his face hard.

Henry didn't answer either of them. "All right, listen," Henry said. "I'll take Draco and you three follow me. Get your wands out and –"

"Are you mad, Lestrange?" Ron whispered. He took a step forward and grabbed one of Draco's arms. "Neville and I'll carry Malfoy – you're the only one who knows your way around this place. You lead, we'll follow with him."

Henry hesitated for a moment and then saw the logic in Ron's words. "No magic," he said, shifting Draco off of him and onto Neville's shoulder. "The wards here will be able to detect if anyone other than a Death Eater uses magic – lets us know when prisoners have escaped."

"Like now?" Ron muttered darkly, fixing one of Draco's arms around his shoulder.

Henry stared at him sharply. "Yes. Exactly like now."

There was no point using the Invisibility Cloak now – there were too many of them and having it on would just create more havoc than it was worth. With a quick spell, Henry shrunk it and stuffed it into his pocket.

He opened the door softly and peered out. The corridor was empty so he allowed the others to shuffle out of the room. They began to walk, Henry in the front with Ron and Neville supporting Draco behind him and Hermione taking up the rear.

They turned the corner and Henry froze suddenly. Standing at the end of the hallway was a slim, hooded figure with a pointed wand, a floating tray of soup behind them. The figure didn't move when the Gryffindors clumsily bumped into Henry and then fell silent. Henry was praying against hope that this wasn't a Death Eater who was just too astonished to see him to do anything. Luck, which had abandoned Henry recently, was on his side today.

"Henry?" The familiar voice made Henry's heart clench – it was so close to Bellatrix's – and instantly he was reminded of home and happier times.

"Aunt Narcissa?"

The others hissed slightly in alarm, but Narcissa Malfoy pushed the hood off her head regardless. Her face was bloodless and her eyes full of shock and alarm. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"Saving Draco," Henry said, promptly.

"I can see that," she said faintly. Narcissa stared at her broken and bloody son supported by a Weasley and the Chosen One himself and her nephew, eyes alive with adrenaline, Draco's blood staining his robes.

Desperately, Henry said, "Aunt Narcissa, I can explain –"

"There isn't time, Henry," she said, cutting across Henry, her eyes never leaving her unconscious son. Henry felt a rush of emotion at hearing his name leave her lips. She usually called him by her nickname 'Harry' but somehow Henry knew she would never say that again. "Get Draco out of here," she pleaded, her eyes now flickering to Henry. She didn't even seem to register that his eyes were green; her thoughts were solely on her son. "Take him to Hogwarts. The Dark Lord has threatened to –" her voice cracked and she swallowed. "Hogwarts. He'll be safe there." She took a step forwards, resting her hand briefly on Draco's cheek. He was out like a light and didn't stir at his mother's touch. Narcissa stepped backwards, her hand closing into a fist that she brought up to her heart. "Go," she said, hoarsely. "Go."

Henry didn't hesitate. He jerked his head to Longbottom and Weasley, who promptly started to walk past Narcissa. He heard Neville mutter something to her, but he couldn't make out what he said. Narcissa didn't react, anyways, and she didn't move until Hermione and Henry were both past her.

"Henry," she called out suddenly, just as Henry was about to turn the corner. He looked back at his aunt, her pale hair gleaming in the darkness of the corridor. It was like looking into a memory of all the times that he and Draco had gotten caught messing around in Riddle Manor when they were younger – Narcissa had the same alarmed and disapproving expression on her face. "Henry, don't you ever return here." Her voice was urgent, insistent. "The Dark Lord will kill you in an instant." She was suddenly right in front of him and clutching his face. Her nails were sharp, but she wasn't doing anything to hurt him intentionally. "No matter what he believes, no matter what is true, you are my nephew, you are Bellatrix's son, and I will love you forever. You are family." She shook her head and spoke with ever more exigency. "But you mustn't return here ever again. He will kill you and then – then I will have lost both of you."

Henry nodded, emotion still bubbling under the surface. "I know," he said, his voice tight and controlled. "Thank you."

Narcissa smiled softly and kissed his forehead. Her lips lingered for a moment and then she pushed him away. "Now leave," she whispered, turning away. She strode down towards the Malfoy room, never looking back.

* * *

Henry and the group left the hallway where they'd encountered Narcissa and peered around the corner into the next corridor. It was empty, thankfully, so Henry led them down it.

"We just need to get to the grounds," Henry explained to the group as they crept through it. "You can't Apparate into the grounds here, but you can Disapparate from them."

"Is he well enough to Apparate?" Hermione asked, looking nervously at Draco.

"It doesn't matter if he is or not," Henry said, staring straight ahead and trying to ignore the dead weight of his cousin between Ron and Neville's shoulders. "We've got to go. Besides, there's not enough whole body parts left to get a real damaging Splinch."

Hermione flinched at that, but she nodded. Henry was worried about that, however reassuring he tried to sound. It was true, what he said to Hermione. It was risky to Apparate with one person, let alone three, but Henry had ignored that risk when arriving here. But, now that he had Draco and he knew how badly off he was ... well, this was his cousin after all. There had been no point asking beforehand if any of them could Apparate as only he could get them to Riddle Manor, but now he need to now. "Can any of you Apparate?"

"You're asking us this now?" Ron hissed, looking mutinous.

Hermione shook her head. "No, we learn that at the end of this year," she said in a low voice.

Fantastic.

"Okay, listen," Henry said. But before he could say anything else, there was a maniacal laugh from ahead and everyone's head snapped to look at where the sound was coming from.

Behind them was a hooded Death Eater, wand pointed toward them. Henry swiftly cut around Ron to come stand behind Hermione, his own wand directed at the Death Eater. "Foolish little _Harry_," the man sneered, throwing his hood off to reveal the pinched face of Antonin Dolohov. "Come back here to die like your mummy –"

"Stupefy!" Hermione cried. The red jet of light hit Dolohov and knocked him over. Everyone stared at Hermione in wonder. "Well, you three didn't do anything," she retorted.

"Nice, Hermione," Ron said, awed. She blushed.

"Not nice." Henry swore and ran his hand through his hair, exasperated. "I said no magic, remember? The Death Eaters' will know now that we're here." Hermione looked apologetic and horrified at the same time and Henry just shook his head at her. "It can't be helped now. The way out is this way. Follow me."

The group had abandoned all pretence of sneaking now. They ran through the halls of Riddle Manor like bats out of hell. Henry was so familiar with all the twists and turns in Riddle Manor; it was actually easier to navigate it when running like this because of all the times he'd done it with Draco when they were younger. The Death Eaters must've been caught off guard that there was someone in Riddle Manor who wasn't supposed to be there because the group made it all the way outside before they encountered any opposition.

Four Death Eaters were running into the Manor and skidded to a stop as they saw Henry there. None of them were hooded, but Henry didn't even bother seeing who they were. He shot a killing curse at the group and then the battle was on full.

Ron and Neville dropped Draco and he crumbled into a heap on the ground. That was the safest place for him as spells began to fly back and forth.

Henry was easily able to duel two of the Death Eaters on his own, and Hermione had one all to herself too. Ron and Neville were duelling one and they actually managed to send that one flying backwards and into a nearby bush.

"We need to get out of here!" Ron roared, turning to send a jinx at Hermione's Death Eater. "Before any more of them get out here!"

Henry had no time to answer as a dark spell was sent flying at him and he was forced to roll out of the way. It flew past him and hit the large double doors, exploding with the sound of a car backfiring.

He jumped back up and yelled, "_Puteulinus_!" A black wolf, identical to the one that was Henry's Patronus, shot out of his wand and landed on the ground, snarling. The Death Eater let out a yelp of shock and scrambled backwards, but the wolf launched itself onto him. The man screamed and then fell silent.

The remaining Death Eaters and Gryffindors all stared at Henry for a moment in shock and then the battle recommenced. Neville fired off the first spell and the Death Eaters all looked at him. "It's Longbottom!" one of them yelled gleefully. "Get him!"

The three Death Eaters that weren't being attacked by a wolf shot a spell at Neville, but Henry jumped in front of him and hollered, "_Tectum_!" A black bubble suddenly encased Henry and Neville. Through the filmy smoke that covered them, Henry could see the Death Eaters scream as their own spells were sent backfiring onto them. Two were wrapped in chains and fell to the ground and another disarmed himself, his wand flipping out of sight.

Henry dissolved the bubble and heard Ron, who was laughing. "Awesome! I need to learn that spell!"

"Thanks," Neville said, sounding shaky.

"No problem."

Suddenly Hermione shrieked and there was a loud thud as she fell to the ground. Henry looked and his heart dropped. Fenrir Greyback was crouched over Hermione, teeth bared. "_Decursus_," Henry shouted and the air seemed to shimmer as Greyback was sent spiralling off Hermione, shrieking.

Hermione scrambled to her feet and ran to Ron, who grabbed her, looking horrified. "You're alright?" he asked her, his voice squeaky with fright.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine ..."

Ron turned, and pointed his wand at Greyback, who had managed to land properly and was approaching again. Ron's eyes blazing with anger, he sent of a "Stupefy" with such force that Greyback was sent twirling backwards once more. Ron just stared at his own wand, as if he couldn't believe he'd just done that and then yelped in delight. "_Expelliarmus_!" he shouted towards one of the Death Eaters and had no difficulty catching the unfortunate man's wand. The man had just gotten the chains off of himself and looked furious. Ron was triumphant, but Henry knew that Death Eaters always carried a spare.

"Ron!" he shouted, just as the Death Eater pulled out his spare, an evil smirk on his face.

"Got you," he hissed and yelled, "_Aer absens!" _For the second time in Ron's life, a yellow jet of light hit him in the neck.

The first time Ron had gotten hit with the Suffocation spell, he'd been confused but this time he panicked. He grabbed his throat, and started to claw at it, his mouth open in a silent scream.

"What's wrong?" Hermione shouted, sending spells at the other two Death Eaters with Neville. "What's happening to him?"

"He's being suffocated," Henry said grimly. Henry couldn't lift the curse because he hadn't been the one to cast it, but there was a sure fire way to make sure that the Death Eater would lift it. Pointing his wand at the Death Eater who had cast it, Henry shouted, "_Avada Kedavra_!"

The green light hit him and the laughter from the man's eyes faded in an instant. He dropped like a rock and then lay still.

Ron took a deep breath and stumbled backwards, collapsing on the ground, gasping. "That's the second bloody time that's happened to me!" he panted.

"Let's make sure there's not a third," Henry said, smiling ruefully.

Then Henry felt something that terrified him – his forearm was burning. His head swirled around, and as he'd lost concentration, his dark wolf disappeared. Rowle, a large blond man, the one who had been shot into the bushes, stood grinning at him, his finger on his Dark Mark. Furious, Henry shot a killing curse at the man and then ducked out of the way.

It was unlikely that the spell had even hit Rowle, but it had given him time to get his thoughts together. If a Death Eater had summoned Voldemort things were about to get a lot worse. They needed to get out there and fast.

He shot another silent spell at the Death Eaters and this time Henry knew it had hit because the man screamed in agony; it was the same curse that Henry had used on Jason Potter several months ago.

There was no time to celebrate that though. Swirling his wand overhead, Henry cried, "_Accio Draco_!" He repeated the spell with the Gryffindors' names and then shot another curse towards the Death Eaters.

Four hurtling bodies were suddenly coming straight for Henry. He panicked and jumped out of the way, causing Ron and Neville to collide with Draco and then Hermione hit Ron on the rebound.

This sudden movement startled the Death Eaters and for a moment, they did nothing. Henry took full advantage of this, shouting, "_Occasum maxima_!" A jet of black smoke exited Henry's wand and exploded into a full force black cloud that shot them all several feet backwards.

Hermione and Neville had got to their feet and Henry dropped to his knees next to his cousin. Draco looked even more banged up now and Henry immediately looked for a heartbeat. It was there, faintly, and that was all Henry needed to know. Draco was alive.

Ron had remained on the ground, clutching his throat and taking deep breaths. "We need to leave," Henry said to him, looking back to Draco.

"Yeah, I'd say so," he said, hoarsely. Getting to his feet and with tremendous strength that must've come from the adrenaline, Ron pulled Draco onto his back and then looked at Henry expectantly.

The black smoke Henry had sent had long since evaporated and Hermione and Neville were duelling with the incensed Death Eaters. "Hermione, Neville, we need to get out here!" Henry shouted.

They both fired off two final spells: Neville's was one that had tree roots rip up from the ground and attack as it reached the Death Eaters and Hermione created a storm cloud from purple and gold sparks that once more hid the Death Eaters from view.

The pair rushed to Henry and the group all grasped hands, Ron forcing Draco's hand into the mix. Jets of light were still emerging from the spark cloud, but since the Death Eaters had no vision, the spells were going all over the place.

Henry was about to Apparate away when the ground suddenly shook beneath them all, nearly knocking them over. Only since they were all holding hands and able to balance off each other did the group not topple over.

"What the hell was that?" Neville swore, looking around. The Death Eaters were still consumed by Hermione's spell, and Neville looked to Henry with fear.

Henry knew exactly what had happened, but he shook his head. "No time. We need to –"

Then Hermione screamed. "It's him! Henry, it's him!"

Panic threatened to overwhelm him, but Henry couldn't resist looking at Bellatrix's murderer, the man who he was going to kill. Lord Voldemort emerged from Hermione's cloud of sparks, looking enraged. His nostrils flared and when he spotted Henry, he let out a cry of triumph. Pointing his wand at the group, he shouted, "_Avada Kedavra_!"

The jet of death speeding towards Henry made everything slow down. There was no time to duck out of the way and that would be a stupid move anyways – they needed to get out of here and out of here now. Thankfully, everyone was still grasping hands and Henry turned on the spot, hoping against hope that they'd be able to Apparate away before the Killing Curse hit anyone. The last thing Henry heard was a scream of fury and when his feet thudded into the ground once more, the scream was still echoing in Henry's ears.

* * *

A/N: Please Review! I promise the update time won't be as much as it was last time!

P.S. – HAPPY BIRTHDAY HP!


	20. The Last Piece

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! Here's chapter 20 (can you believe we're here already?) This is a more relaxing chapter than the last one, with lots of explanations and consequences abundant. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to the wonderful JK Rowling.

**Chapter Twenty – The Last Piece **

If Henry thought that Apparating with three passengers had been hard, Apparating with four was infinitely times harder. When his feet hit the ground, his knees automatically buckled and he collapsed to the ground. He lay there for a few moments, stars bursting from behind his eyes and his ears ringing, both from pressure and Voldemort's echoing scream. Thankfully, the final curse that the Dark Lord had sent hadn't hit anyone: Henry had Apparated them out just seconds beforehand.

But, he had been winded by the force of hitting the ground and currently had no air in his lungs. And so, there was no real rush for Henry to stand up for he'd just fall over again. When, however, he could finally see well enough and was once again breathing, he sat up, swaying slightly as the blood rushed to his head.

Hermione was flat on her back, staring up at the sky with a dazed expression on her face. Lying right beside her, Ron seemed to have been knocked unconscious. Both, though, seemed to be doing wonderfully compared to Neville, who was clutching a closed fist to his chest and moaning, his face pale. Blood was spurting from his fist and Henry grimly thought that Neville was Splinched.

For a moment, Henry thought that it was just the five teenagers and he was going to have to try and restore whatever part of Longbottom that had been left behind, until he saw Dumbledore. The Headmaster was leaning over the unconscious body of Draco. Blood was dripping from Draco's right ear and leaking from his nose, but as Henry watched the blood stopped as Dumbledore continued to stabilize him. Dumbledore straightened, summoning five stretchers wordlessly that each floated to one of the fallen students and then went to Neville's side. Henry scrambled away from his stretcher and hurried to Draco's unconscious body.

Although there were no outward signs of injury from the Apparition on Draco's mangled body (that Henry could see, anyways), having blood leaking from your ears and nose was not good. Henry gently levitated Draco's limp form, guiding Draco's head with his hand, onto the awaiting stretcher. His cousin still looked very hurt, but miraculously, he had not been Splinched Apparating unconscious. Draco would survive for the moment and Henry turned to see what was going on with the others.

Dumbledore was talking softly to Neville, gently prodding him to uncurl his fist. Finally, Neville complied. His hand was completely covered in blood and his second finger seemed to have disappeared entirely. "Splinched," Dumbledore said, confirming Henry's earlier thought. He waved his wand over the wound, and, in a puff of smoke, Neville's finger reappeared.

"Thanks," Neville said in a shaky voice, flexing his fingers and hugging the injured hand to his chest.

"You're most welcome," Dumbledore said. His voice was serious and he returned his gaze to Henry. "Henry. I take it your mission was a success." He did not look pleased that he hadn't been able to come rescue Draco as well, but Henry stared obstinately back. Shouldn't he have known that Voldemort was going to have wards against just that? Old fool.

"It was," he said simply.

The Headmaster nodded once. He looked away and his gaze fell on Hermione and Ron. Hermione had gotten, shakily, to her feet, still looking dazed, but Ron was still unconscious. Dumbledore examined him for a moment and then smiled slightly. "Just the after effects of the Apparition," he said lightly. "Mr Weasley will be fine in a few minutes. Madam Pomfrey should be able to give him some chocolate and he'll be back on his feet in no time." He looked to Hermione, who was looking very unsteady on her feet and was blinking slowly, trying to clear her vision. "Miss Granger," Dumbledore asked, levitating Ron onto a stretcher without even looking. "Would you like one as well?"

Hermione shook her head and almost toppled over because of it. But, nevertheless, she said, "No, I'm fine."

Neville refused a stretcher, and so, with two unconscious students floating ahead of him, Dumbledore started up the lane towards the school.

Hermione, who seemed to be getting stronger by the moment, hurried to keep up with Dumbledore and walked beside Ron, gazing at him worriedly. Neville remained with Henry, who was lost in thought. So much had happened in the past few hours – Henry had failed the Dark Lord once more, he had been accused of being a dead child, his mother was murdered, Draco was tortured and he'd been to Riddle Manor on a rescue mission. Henry really desired a warm bed to lie down on so he could go to sleep and wake up from this awful nightmare.

Neville looked like he very much wanted to say something; Henry had an inkling about what. Softly, to keep the conversation private from Dumbledore, Neville asked, "Is it true what that Death Eater said? The one who Hermione Stunned. That – that your mother is dead?"

A jaw muscle pulsed in his cheek and Henry nodded once. "Yes," he said, his voice tight. "She was murdered. By the Dark Lord."

Neville seemed to have been silenced by shock. "By Voldemort?"

Hearing the name was still a jolt for Henry, who had been taught to revere the word ever since he was a child, and he nodded tightly.

Neville remained silent for few moments and then said, his voice faltering, "I'm sorry." Henry didn't believe that for a second, so he didn't reply, just stared straight ahead.

After passing the rest of the climb up to Hogwarts in silence, the group was greeted at the doors by a very irate looking Madam Pomfrey. She almost had a heart attack at the sight of Draco's mangled body and hurried the entire group into the castle.

In the Hospital Wing, where Madam Pomfrey had ushered them all to, Dumbledore levitated Ron onto a bed and Madam Pomfrey did the same with Draco. She didn't even go over to check on Ron yet – Draco was a much bigger concern. Only Hermione stayed beside Ron while all the others stood around Draco's bed.

"What exactly happened to him?" Madam Pomfrey demanded of Henry, summoning all sorts of vials and bottles to her side. They floated in front of her and she selected three of them, pouring equal amounts into small glasses. "Professor Dumbledore said –"

For a moment, Henry couldn't speak. If he didn't say it out loud, this wouldn't be true and Draco would sit up, laughing at Henry's gullibility.

"He was tortured," Neville said quietly, believing he was saving Henry from answering. In reality, Neville only confirmed this nightmare to be real and Henry wanted to punch him. "By Voldemort."

Madam Pomfrey sucked in a deep breath here and shook her head. "I heard it but I didn't believe it. He's a _monster. _Torturing innocent children..." her voice trailed off and she swallowed deeply. Madam Pomfrey poured the three glasses of liquid – one was an ugly, thick green, another was bright, bubbling blue, and the last was clear and sparkling as it hit the faint candlelight – into Draco's mouth.

After the potions had gone down and instructing Henry, Neville and Dumbledore to watch Draco for a moment ("And don't touch him!") Madam Pomfrey checked on Ron, muttering under her breath and clucking her tongue.

Henry took the seat next to his cousin. He wasn't sure what the medicine had done to Draco, but its effects hadn't hit him yet. Henry wasn't used to seeing Draco so unresponsive and hurt that he could scarcely believe that this was his cousin lying there in front of him when it just looked like a rag doll.

As if the universe had read Henry's mind, suddenly, Draco's body twisted in a violent spasm and he moaned, clutching at the sheets around him. Madam Pomfrey hurried back over, leaving Ron once more ignored.

"Mr Malfoy needs rest! I'm sorry Professor Dumbledore, but unless the students are staying here overnight, you all need to leave right this moment!"

"I'm not leaving him here alone!" Henry protested immediately, jumping up. "What if he wakes up and doesn't know where he is –"

Draco moaned again and his eyes fluttered open. Henry immediately fell silent and dropped to his knees next to his cousin. "Draco?" he whispered. "Draco, can you hear me?"

Draco's eyes were wild and couldn't focus on anything, but he seemed to grasp onto Henry's voice. He reached out with a bloody hand and Henry quickly grabbed it with his own. "Henry," Draco whispered, his voice so hoarse that Henry could barely hear him. "Henry, he's killed ... he's killed her."

"Shh, Draco, it's okay," Henry said consolingly, although a huge lump had started to form in his throat at the mention of Bellatrix's death. "Rest now, okay? We'll –"

"Henry!" Draco was more urgent now and his grip tightened on Henry's hand. "He ... the Dark Lord ... _Bellatrix_ ... oh Merlin ...Henry, he's killed her."

"What?" said Dumbledore sharply, leaning closer to Draco. His blue eyes were wide, shocked. "Voldemort murdered Bellatrix?"

The words were like a slap to Henry, who bit his lip to stop from saying anything. Draco looked at Dumbledore and his eyes unfocused again. Then he mumbled, "Dead ... Must tell Henry ... Henry, she's gone ... gone."

There was a deathly silence in the hospital wing. Draco had spoken quietly, but the force of his words seemed to echo throughout the room. Henry refused to be the first to speak afterwards, lest any lingering emotion betray him and, to his surprise, Dumbledore didn't say anything else about Bellatrix, though he certainly looked like he wanted to.

Madam Pomfrey was the one to break the silence. She pulled the curtains around Draco's bed and turned to look at the group at large. "Out," she ordered. "I'm sorry, Professor, but you'll need to leave and unless the students are remaining here, they'll have to go as well."

Hermione didn't look like she particularly wanted to stay, but reluctantly agreed. Ron, who was still unconscious, had no say in the matter, and Henry suspected that another reason Hermione had agreed to remain was to make sure that he was okay. Neville hadn't put up much of a fight either. He seemed slightly traumatized by the Death Eater battle – it was, Henry realized, probably the first time Neville Longbottom had seen or participated in a Death Eater attack. The Chosen One was so sheltered that he'd only heard stories about the ferocity of Death Eaters or seen the aftermath of their attacks. If Henry had been on the Light side, he'd have been scared to death that the weight of their victory rested with this innocent boy.

The other three Gryffindors might've been persuaded to spend the night in the Hospital Wing by Madam Pomfrey, but Henry was not going to be that easy. He wasn't going to stay there where they could possibly take his blood in the middle of the night, even if he was worried to death about his cousin's condition.

"But, Lestrange, you've just battled Death Eaters!" Madam Pomfrey sounded furious. "What –"

"I'll be fine," he said shortly. "It's nothing I haven't done before."

That silenced her, and under her livid gaze, Henry marched from the Hospital Wing and to Gryffindor Tower. He had no desire to really return to his dormitory where the broken pieces of mirror were still doubtlessly spread about, but there was no way in hell that he was going to stay in a bloody infirmary.

It must've been past eleven at night, but there were still many students up and about in the Common Room. As it was a Saturday and a Hogsmeade weekend trip, curfew was usually a little lax and even some younger students were still awake. Henry didn't realize that he was covered in Draco's blood until all conversation ceased as he entered through the portrait hole. He considered walking faster, but he wanted to see the fear in the Gryffindors' eyes. He wanted them to know – whatever news they might hear in the upcoming days – that he was still Henry Lestrange and he could show up covered in blood as calm and collected as always.

He smirked at the room at large, looking around to see what Gryffindors he was currently shocking. His roommates, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan, were staring at him, while the other girls in his year, Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, gawked openly at him and then started to whisper furiously as his gaze landed on them. A swell of rage erupted in him at the sight of Jason Potter, who was sitting near the fireplace with one of those stupid Zonko's hat that Henry had seen in Hogsmeade on his head. The boy was staring at him with his mouth hanging open and eyes bulging, looking like a complete fool.

Henry clenched his fists tightly into balls. This boy represented everything that had gone wrong in the last ten hours: he was a Potter, a son of Lily and James, present at the failure of the mission and therefore Draco's torture and the death of Bellatrix. Through no fault of Jason's own (though Henry was _completely_ willing to blame it on him), the Light side had decided that Henry was Jason Potter's long deceased brother. And here the stupid boy sat, mercifully ignorant of the news that was about to rock his world to the core, with a Zonko's hat on his head. How could anyone even think that Henry was a sibling of such a silly, shallow boy?

There was a part of Henry that wanted to hurt Jason for being so innocent and carefree, but another complication was not what he wanted right now. He continued to his dormitory and shut the door firmly behind him. House-elves must've come in and cleaned because there was no sign of the mirror and Henry felt a huge swell of relief. It was bad enough to be in the room where he had witnessed his mother's murder – he didn't need the device by which he had seen it there too.

Looking at his warm bed, he suddenly realized how tired he was. Earlier, he'd have given anything to sleep and wake up from this nightmare, but now it was starting to set in that no, this wasn't a dream. He didn't want to sleep and wake up tomorrow to face a world where everything had suddenly changed overnight, but unfortunately for Henry, he was human. He was exhausted and his body needed sleep.

His dreams ran rampant that night, but all were focused on one thing - Bellatrix's death:

_Henry was in the dormitory, holding the mirror up to his face. To his horror, the entire scene of Bellatrix's death replayed itself for him. He watched himself react as if he was standing outside his body, but he felt the same pain that he had the first time._

_As Voldemort's image faded from the mirror, the dream started itself over again, but this time Henry watched Bellatrix die from Riddle Manor itself. He stood where Voldemort stood, held Voldemort's wand, felt Voldemort's rage. "You betrayed me," he heard himself say in the high, cold voice of the Dark Lord. "I never thought you would be the one to betray me, Bellatrix."_

_Henry's mother furiously denied it, but Henry as Voldemort showed no mercy. He raised his wand and shouted, "_Avada -"

_No! Henry yelled and this time it was his own voice that echoed from Voldemort's body. He was suddenly standing across from the Dark Lord. Voldemort regarded him coolly and then pointed the wand at Henry instead of Bellatrix._

_"Harry Potter," the Dark Lord whispered. There was no mercy in his voice and Henry knew the end was coming and yet, strangely, he cared not. The Dark Lord sneered once and cried, "_Avada Kedavra_!"_

_The green light hit Henry in the chest and he fell, falling backwards, the light fading from his vision ... he was going to see Bellatrix again ... _

Henry awoke from the dream, rolling over. For a moment, he didn't know if he was awake or asleep or dead, but he was soon taken into another dream.

_Bellatrix's voice was frantic. "My lord that is not Harry Potter ... I haven't – that isn't Harry Potter! It's Henry, Henry, my son Henry ...no, please ... My lord ... Please ... Henry? ..._ _Henry, where are you?" Her tone had changed to one of amusement and pleasure._

"_You have to guess, Mama!" shouted Henry, giggling. He was about five years old and currently hiding behind the sofa in the living room of Lestrange Manor."That's the whole point of the game!"_

"_All right," said Bellatrix's voice, sounding amused. "Hmm, now where could Henry be ... under the table? No. How about behind the china cabinet? No, not there... Hmm. Where _could_ he be?"_

_Giggling like a maniac, Henry jumped out from the couch, ready to pounce on his mother and declare his victory, but when he leapt away from his hiding spot, Bellatrix was nowhere to be seen._

"_Mama?" he called, suddenly uncertain. She'd been right there – where had she gone? The room at Lestrange Manor where he'd been playing hide-and-seek with his mother was empty. He turned around, expecting to see her there, but he was greeted with a wall instead. "Mama?" he called out again._

"_She is not your mother," whispered a soft voice from behind him. Henry whirled around and saw Lord Voldemort standing there. The Dark Lord looked just as he did in reality, with a black cloak swirling around him like smoke, eyes blood red. Voldemort took a step forward and Henry automatically took one in the opposite direction. "She is a traitor," he hissed._

_Henry was starting to feel fear in his belly. "Mama's not a traitor!" he protested loudly._

"_Oh but she is. You have no idea the lengths of her betrayals..." The Dark Lord transformed then, into a tall, pretty redheaded woman with emerald eyes. Unlike in life, this Lily Potter was staring at Henry with cruelty and malice. Her voice was sharp and the end of each syllable she spoke snapped out like a whip. "She has betrayed you too, Harry." _

_Henry jolted at the nickname and he snarled at the woman. "Only Auntie Narcissa calls me that!" he shouted. "Stop it!"_

_Lily Potter ignored him. "Only Auntie Narcissa? Why, I'm afraid, Harry, that you have no aunt named thus. You have an Aunt Petunia, though I'm certain she is much less pleasant than your current 'aunt'." She cocked her head to one side and then continued."Henry Lestrange is not your name. You were never Bellatrix's child," she said, her voice slippery and sweet at the same time. "Never. You see her betrayal, child? Her boy was dead and she needed someone to love, someone to betray because, in the end, that is all she was good for... She raised you as Henry Lestrange, but you were never him. That boy lies dead in the ground and you, you my dear boy, are Harry Potter."_

_Henry began to scream. "Mum, Mum!" He started to back away from Lily Potter, who was advancing towards him. _

"_Don't be foolish," she soothed, arms reached out as if to hug him, but Henry was terrified. "I'm right here. I'm your mother."_

_He screamed only louder. "No! Where is she? Where is my mum?" _

_Lily Potter's eyes were leering at him. "I understand, Harry," she said, sympathetically. "You think she's your mother. She lied to you for years, betrayed you, used you. I understand. Don't worry, my dear Harry." She straightened and suddenly looked immensely proud of her self. "I've taken care of her." _

"_What?" Henry yelled, backing up even further. Terror was cursing through Henry's veins. "Where's my mama?"_

_Lily Potter stepped aside, eyes glinting victoriously, her cloak swirling about her like smoke. Behind her on the floor lay Bellatrix, her black eyes wide open in horror. _

_Henry screamed and took another step, this time tripping over the coffee table. He landed hard on his elbows and cried out in pain. _

"_Oh, Harry," Lily Potter whispered, coming ever closer. "My poor son. Did you hurt yourself? Here, let me see –"_

"_No!" Henry screamed, kicking his legs out to keep her at bay._

_As his scream faded away, Lily Potter straightened, her eyes even colder than before. "You want her?" she hissed. "You want the woman who stole you from me? The woman who stole your whole life? The woman who raised you to be a killer? You want her? Well, you can have her."_

_Like Voldemort had changed into her, Lily Potter dissolved and was replaced by Bellatrix. This Bellatrix was cold and meaner looking than Henry had ever seen her in life and having just seen her dead body, he whimpered at the sight of her._

"_She's right," said Bellatrix. Her voice in the dream was strangely metallic, echoing in Henry's ears loudly. "You were never my child." _

"_Mum!" he cried out. _

"_I betrayed you, Harry." She sighed and stretched her arms out as if they were talking about the results of last week's Quidditch Final. "And you've never realized it. You were so easy to trick, so easy to manipulate ... You thought that I loved you? I _never_ loved you. How could I? You aren't my son, you aren't pureblooded. You are the son of a Mudblood. You are Harry Potter, the Dark Lord's enemy. You don't deserve the name of Lestrange; in fact, you disgrace it."_

_Henry couldn't think of a response – he just stared at Bellatrix, his little mouth hanging open. _

_Bellatrix disappeared and Lily Potter stood there again, her arms outstretched. "Don't worry, Harry," she whispered, wrapping Henry into her embrace. Henry didn't even have the energy to struggle and even if he had, he wouldn't be able to get loose of her grip: it was like iron. "She's gone. The monster is gone."_

_Henry hadn't even realized he was sobbing. "Mama," he cried, over and over again. "Mama."_

"_Shh," Lily Potter whispered, tightening her grip on him. "Your mother is here now, Harry. Don't worry, my child. I'm here. I'm here."_

* * *

Even the bravest of Death Eaters were quaking with fear at Lord Voldemort's wrath. He had killed four of them already and the back wall in his meeting room was completely burned from a furious fire curse earlier.

It would take hours for him to calm down, they all knew that, but since none of them had been dismissed, any movement would cause another Killing Curse to come speeding their way. No, it was best to stay immobile and wait until he had finished his rant.

"I have never been so _ashamed _to call you Death Eaters," Voldemort spat. "You all are worthless, pitiful pieces of rubbish. You have all betrayed me ... allowing Harry Potter to live in our midst and then letting him leave once more ..." Voldemort stared at the quivering Death Eaters." Out," he said curtly. "All of you."

There had never been such a scuffle for the door as that night. In only a matter of moments, the Dark Lord was alone with Nagini. His snake, the only being that ever comforted Voldemort, curled up to his legs. "_Master_ –"

"_Get out_!" he shouted in Parseltongue at her.

The snake regarded him with cold eyes and then dipped her head once, slithering away. As Nagini's tail whipped the corner of the door as she departed, Voldemort suddenly felt more alone than ever. Furious at the emotion, he flicked his hand at the table. It overturned, snapping the chairs like twigs and sending paper flying everywhere.

The Dark Lord stood in the midst of the falling paper, livid. Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom had been in his house tonight. They'd been here tonight – both of them! – and his idiotic Death Eaters had allowed them to escape.

The ones who had done that had already been dealt with, but there would be more punishments, yes, many more. Voldemort had never felt such rage, not only at the Death Eaters, but at himself.

He had been foolish, very foolish. It would've been easy to summon the boy here, saying that he needed him, and once Harry Potter had been in his presence, kill him right where he stood. He had been rash, and allowed emotions to overwhelm him.

It could not happen again.

Potter was going to die and Lord Voldemort was going to be the one to kill him.

* * *

Twisted up in his sheets, sweat pooling on his brow, Henry awoke suddenly from his fanatical dreams. For a wild moment, he had no idea where he was. Then, he recognized the scarlet curtains around his bed and he relaxed slightly. He wasn't in Lestrange nor Riddle Manor, he was safe in Hogwarts. At that thought – safe in Hogwarts! – Henry breathed out deeply in mirth. Who knew that one day this school would be the only safe place for Henry Lestrange?

Lestrange.

The last name that he had been so recently accused of disgracing stung him and he shuddered slightly. The dream had been so real – the three apparitions he'd witnessed had been identical in appearance to their true persons.

Was it true? Was it true what the apparitions had said? That he had been betrayed by Bellatrix, lied to and used by her for years? What if it was true and he was -

Stop it, he scolded himself. Stop it, Henry. It doesn't matter what your _dreams_ say to you ... you're Henry Lestrange. That's never going to change.

After only a few moments of lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling, Henry knew that he wasn't going to get any more sleep that night. Softly, not to wake anyone and warrant unwanted questions, he pulled the curtains open and looked out. The curtains hadn't been drawn over the window, so moonlight snaked into the room, illuminating just enough of it for Henry to easily get to the door. Changing quickly, Henry crossed to the door, opening and closing it behind him silently.

He walked down the spiral staircase into the Common Room and saw, to his frustration, several people were still there, and they all looked up at Henry as he entered. The conversations ceased almost instantly – a constant thing when he entered the room recently – but Henry just walked past all the Gryffindors and their pointed whispers of, "Isn't it past curfew already?" He almost snorted at their stupidity. He was Henry Lestrange and curfew meant nothing to him. Honestly, what was the worse the teachers could do to him – detention?

* * *

Lily and James hadn't seen Henry since they'd told him the news about who they suspected he really was a few hours earlier. He'd ran off, looking petrified, claiming that he needed some alone time and they hadn't heard from him since.

To be honest, Lily didn't want to see him right away. She was still processing it and, even though she was nearly certain that Henry was her son, she couldn't fully accept it yet. He had always been so cold to her in and out of class, uncaring about Muggleborns' rights and the like. It was hard to believe that this, this cold, unflinchingly dark boy, was her son. Even when Lily was in her darkest of moods, she barely reached the level of anger that an infuriated Henry Lestrange could reach. And still James, who had not been all that pleasant when he was Henry's age, was still never as mean as the boy was.

"I still can't believe it," James said, echoing Lily's thoughts. "He's just so ..."

"Cold?" Lily suggested, her voice dry. "I know."

James sighed, running his hand through his hair, a gesture he hadn't lost from his teens. "I can't believe it," he repeated.

Before Lily could help herself, she spoke. "He's never going to be our little Harry again, James." Her voice broke and James put his arm tightly around her, but she swallowed and continued. "He loves her, he loves Bellatrix. He thinks that she's his – his –"

"Shh," James consoled, hugging Lily. "It's going to take some time for all of us to adjust to this. It's not going to be easy, but we'll get there, okay?"

James was right. Be happy, she scolded herself. Harry is alive! Your son is still alive! But, as a nasty part of her brain said, wouldn't it have been better if Harry had died and not grown up among Voldemort and Death Eaters?

Instantly, Lily felt a rush of shame. How could she think something like that? It shouldn't matter whether Harry had been brought up by Death Eaters or Muggles or wolves or anything. He was alive and that was all that mattered.

There was a sudden knock on the door and James and Lily jumped. Once opened, the door revealed Dumbledore, who had a grave look on his face.

"Albus," James said, surprised. "What's wrong?"

"We need to talk, James," he said. "May I come in?" Dumbledore entered the room and took a seat across from the couch where James had rejoined Lily.

"What is this about?" Lily asked, hesitantly. Dumbledore looked quite serious; the usual twinkle in his eyes was gone.

The Headmaster didn't answer Lily's question for a moment and then he spoke again. "Lord Voldemort knows about Harry."

Both Potters inhaled sharply; this was another of their worst fears realized. Thinking that they'd have Harry for a while before Voldemort was after him again had been a wishful dream, but a dream nonetheless. "How did he find out?"

"I do not know yet," Dumbledore said. "But, he was furious and dolled punishments out among members of the Lestrange and Malfoy families." He paused and then said, "He tortured Draco Malfoy nearly to death."

Lily put her hand to her mouth and James swore. "Merlin. Is he -?"

"He is alive," Dumbledore reassured. "He is resting in the Hospital Wing now after being rescued from Voldemort's headquarters by Henry."

"What?" Lily and James said, in surprised unison. "Rescued from -?"

"Yes. Henry went to rescue Draco a few hours ago and returned about twenty minutes ago."

"Is he alright?" James demanded immediately.

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, Harry is perfectly fine. While only he and Miss Granger returned completely unscathed -"

"Miss Granger?" Lily repeated sharply. "She went to Voldemort's headquarters, as well?"

"Oh, yes," Dumbledore said. "She, Ronald Weasley, and Neville Longbottom all accompanied him to Voldemort's headquarters."

James and Lily sat there, stunned and staring at Dumbledore. Before they could ask any further questions, Dumbledore continued, "Torturing innocent Draco was not the only punishment Voldemort carried out tonight." He paused, choosing his words and tone of voice delicately. "He also murdered Bellatrix."

For a moment, the room remained silent. Lily felt a rush of euphoria at Dumbledore's words - the monster who had stolen her child was dead!

"How is Henry?" James said swiftly. Immediately, Lily felt guilt wash over her again. Here she was, rejoicing over Bellatrix's death when, to Henry, he had lost his mother.

"As well as anyone can do when their primary caregiver is murdered," Dumbledore said sadly. "I think that, for the time being, he should be left alone. All of this has been a terrible shock to him - he will no doubt need a great deal of time to adjust to the change in his life." Silence descended on the room again; both Lily and James agreed, somewhat reluctantly, with Dumbledore's last words. "That is not the only reason I came to talk to you tonight," Dumbledore said finally. "I need to ask your permission for something."

"For what?" Lily inquired.

"To tell the Ministry that Bellatrix is dead, and, therefore, the rest of the wizarding world. The Ministry would be eager to hear of the news, but as this is so close to Henry, I leave the decision up to you. You are his parents and it is your decision."

Lily and James looked at each other. If they told about Bellatrix, then the news about Henry would only come out sooner. Both looked torn between keeping the secret so they could personally get adjusted to it all but at the same time wanted the world to know their elation that Harry hadn't died all those years ago.

"We can't really keep this from the public, can we?" Lily said softly to James. "They all have a right to know that we have hope again."

Dumbledore smiled gently. "I won't tell the Ministry about Henry yet; not until the blood test confirms it." He stood and made to leave, but paused at the doorway. "Hope never left us, Lily. But, now we have a tangible cause to start fighting again - redemption for Harry Potter and justice for his parents."

* * *

It was a chilly morning for late October; the sun shone high and cold, in the sky. Henry was sitting by himself on the ground, his body raw and frozen from sitting outside all night. He'd made a small, magical fire at one point to keep warm, but that had burned out and now, as the sun had risen a few minutes ago, he didn't recast it.

He was staring at the slightly rippling lake surface, not really seeing it. He'd skipped out on breakfast; he wasn't hungry, even though he hadn't eaten for almost a whole day.

A cold breeze kicked up and he shivered as it struck his face, but felt the wintry wind as a welcome relief from the numbness he was feeling inside. The adrenaline he'd had when saving Draco had worn off and the hollow feeling had returned. The only parent he had ever known was dead – killed by the man that Henry had looked up to his whole life.

He hadn't shed one tear since last night when he had broken down in the hallway. Bellatrix would have been furious had she seen her son crying, especially over her.

He heard footsteps crunching on the leaves behind him. Silently, barely moving, he gripped his wand, ready to curse the person to hell and back.

"Henry?" said a soft voice, almost nervously. The footsteps stopped. "Are you – I brought you some toast. You missed breakfast ..."

It was Hermione. Henry loosened his grip on his wand, but only slightly.

"No, I'm not hungry," he said, his voice dull and monotone.

He could sense Hermione still standing there, awkwardly, for a few minutes. Then she lowered herself down beside him. She was holding a napkin wrapped around two faintly steaming pieces of toast.

"When did you get out of the Hospital Wing?" Henry asked dully.

"About an hour ago," Hermione said. Her voice was cautious, distant. "I felt perfectly fine when I woke up so she released me."

"Is Draco still there?"

Hermione nodded. "As far as I know. The curtains are up around his bed, but Madam Pomfrey had him all bandaged when I went to sleep last night."

Good, Henry thought. At least Draco was in safe hands.

They were silent for several minutes, both staring out at the lake. Finally, Hermione said, her voice quiet, "I know you won't believe me, but I'm really sorry about your mother, Henry."

Henry clenched his fists; a Hogwarts student being sorry for Bellatrix's death meant next to nothing to him for it was an obvious lie, but he did recognize that Hermione was the only one who treated her death like Harry had just lost his mother. When everyone else on the Light side found out, Henry knew that they were going to be uncaring about this – they would all rejoice that the monster who had killed so many of them was dead.

"Does anyone else know?" asked Henry quietly.

Hermione hesitated before answering, "Yes. The whole school does. It was in the _Daily Prophet_ this morning."

"Oh," said Henry. Certainly Bellatrix murdered by Voldemort himself would create an uproar. "How did the _Prophet _find out?"

"Well – please don't get mad – Dumbledore told the Ministry about it; you can't keep a high ranking Death Eater's death a secret from the public," she said, speaking very quickly. "It wouldn't be right."

Henry didn't respond. He didn't know why he was surprised that Dumbledore had told the media; for Henry, the death of Bellatrix was a huge blow, but to Dumbledore it was just another victory over Voldemort and the Dark Side. Voldemort was murdering his own supporters - the Dark Side would seem to be falling apart to an outsider.

"So, what are you going to do now?" asked Hermione, her voice still soft. "We've got Draco back now and it's safe at Hogwarts for you both –"

"Kill Voldemort," said Henry automatically.

"What?" Hermione sounded stunned.

He turned to look at her, anger burning in his eyes. "What, should I run and give him a hug?"

"No –"

"He killed my mother, Hermione!" Henry shouted. That was the first time he spoke those words and, even though he'd swore to not cry again, he could feel emotion stirring under the surface. "He killed her and he tortured Draco! Of course I'm going to kill him!"

Hermione just stared at him, saying nothing, her eyes wide. They lapsed into silence again, Henry's heart pounding with fury.

Then he started to think about what he'd said – was that what he had to do? Kill Voldemort? It had been the most obvious answer the night before, but now, in the morning light – was that the right decision?

Bellatrix wouldn't have wanted it: loyalty to the Dark Lord was the most important thing in the world in her view. Henry had also believed that – until Voldemort murdered Bellatrix. Now Voldemort was an enemy. An enemy who had killed Henry's only remaining parent. An enemy who had to be destroyed.

What else could he do? There were no other real options. Everyone would soon think that he was Harry Potter and now that Bellatrix was dead, dead by Voldemort's own hand, Henry couldn't return to him. Voldemort didn't care that Harry had been raised as Henry Lestrange, raised to be loyal to the Dark Lord in every way – in Voldemort's eyes, Henry was Harry Potter and had to be exterminated.

Henry could understand it all perfectly; he'd grown up with Voldemort, after all. It had always been Neville Longbottom who had to be killed for he was the Chosen One, but now that the prophecy could mean either Neville or Henry (no matter how much Henry was reluctant to admit it), Voldemort was after both of them.

Henry and Hermione sat in silence for a long time. Finally, Hermione stood, wiping the dirt off of her legs. "I'm going back in," she said, her voice a little chillier than normal. "Do you want to come?"

Henry shook his head. "No." He paused and then called, "Hermione?" The footsteps stopped. "Thank you."

* * *

After Henry finally returned to the warmth of Hogwarts, he headed immediately to the Hospital Wing to see how Draco was doing.

Madam Pomfrey clucked her tongue at the sight of him entering, but said nothing. Ron and Neville, who were both awake and sitting up, just nodded at Henry, and he passed by them to Draco's bed wordlessly. Parting the curtains slightly, he saw that Draco was still unconscious, though his wounds were all bandaged and colour was starting to return to his cheeks.

Henry didn't know how long he sat there beside Draco's bed, staring at his cousin and willing him to wake up but eventually Madam Pomfrey tapped him on the shoulder.

"I need to change his bandages," she said softly. "Why don't you go get some lunch? If there are any changes with him, I'll tell you immediately."

Henry nodded and, reluctantly, allowed her to guide him out of the room. He started back down the hallway, unsure of his destination, with his hands in his pockets and staring at the floor. The Great Hall would be full of staring students, so it was out of the question. He must've been subconsciously heading to Gryffindor Tower when he nearly ran into a group of people.

They fell silent at the sight of him and Henry was briefly able to see who he'd encountered. To his immense disgust, it was Jason Potter and his usual group of cronies. Like the previous night, fury welled up in Henry at the sight of the younger Potter.

"Move it," Henry snarled, shoving past them.

As he stomped down the hallway, he heard Jason call out from behind him, "I'm sorry about your mother, Lestrange. I know I'd be really upset if I lost mine, so even if yours was a Death Eater it must be –"

Henry could not believe what that little brat had just said. Was Jason Potter actually trying to offer condolences for Bellatrix's death? Henry whirled around, his wand already drawn. "_You're_ sorry?" he hissed.

Jason looked startled, but honestly what had he expected from talking to Henry? "Yeah," he said defensively. "I am."

Henry took a step towards the boy. "Who are you to say that?" he snarled. "You didn't know her, you filthy blood traitor –"

"Hey!" Jason said indignantly. He and all his other friends had drawn their wands and were pointing them at Henry. Of them all, only Jason didn't look afraid.

Having these young students point their wands at Henry didn't faze him at all. "What do you know about death? Or loss? You've never gone a day without your stupid Mudblood mother there to coddle you –"

Jason's face was now furious; red sparks shot out of the end of his wand. "Don't you dare insult my mother –!"

"What is going on here?

Henry turned to see who had interrupted them and his stomach nearly dropped to the ground. It was James Potter.

To say that James looked stunned was an understatement. He stared at Henry and Jason with wide eyes and his mouth parted in shock.

Jason immediately flushed a bright red. "Dad, he called Mum –"

James cut across Jason. "Get out of here, Jace," he ordered. "Go to Gryffindor Tower and remain there."

"But –"

"Go." James's voice was firm. Jason shot his father a dirty look, but retreated with a final glare at Henry, his friends repeating the gesture.

Once they were gone, James looked to Henry. Henry stared defiantly back at him, willing the man to say something about how Henry (supposedly his son) had just about cursed his other son. But, to his surprise, James just shook his head and walked away.

* * *

After skipping out on a whole day of classes, Henry made the trip to the Hospital Wing once more. He was desperately hoping that Draco would be awake today as he really needed someone to talk to. No one else understood what Henry was going through; like he'd predicted, people had rejoiced at the news of Bellatrix's death.

People were callously talking in delighted voices about it when Henry walked through the halls to the Hospital Wing. It was still early and before the first class of the day, and Henry wanted to see if Draco was still asleep. Madam Pomfrey let him in without a complaint – she seemed to be getting that Henry would just come in anyways.

To Henry's immense surprise, Draco was awake and sitting up in his bed, reading a book. He put it down as Henry approached, smiling. His face was still badly bruised and the smile seemed to hurt him, so he quickly stopped.

"Took you long enough to come visit me," he said dryly.

Henry rolled his eyes, but felt a surge of relief that his cousin was alive with his snarky attitude intact. "You've been asleep ever other time I've been here, you dolt."

"I'm sorry, but I've been a bit busy recovering from being tortured," Draco said. He sounded light about the topic, but Henry could see the pain flash in his eyes at the memory. It vanished and then Draco grinned wryly again. "Oh, and I've been meaning to thank you for dropping me so many times on the escape."

Henry rolled his eyes, laughing slightly. "If you weren't so badly injured, I'd punch you."

Draco shrugged. "Well, if you hadn't dropped me –"

"Oh, shut up."

Draco laughed, but then his eyes darkened, both from the pain from his injuries and the change of subject. "How are you?"

Henry didn't answer; he looked away from Draco and out the window to where the grounds were starting to fill with students on their way to an early morning Herbology.

"Bad," he finally admitted. "I have nightmares; I can't sleep..."

"I know," Draco said gently.

Henry couldn't help it; he scoffed. "All _you_ do is sleep, Draco."

Draco didn't laugh this time. "Henry." He didn't speak and Draco leaned forward slightly. "Henry, I need to know." Henry had been expecting this so he kept quiet. Draco looked like he very much didn't want to say anything and when he spoke his voice was carefully distant. "Is it true?"

There was another minute or two of silence. Then Henry shrugged. "That's what the Order all believe."

Draco leaned back against his pillows, looking deflated. "Oh."

"Oh," Henry repeated glumly. "They want me to take a blood test to prove it, but I've refused so far." He was carefully watching his cousin's expression to see if there were any changes in it, but Draco's face remained carefully neutral. And then, Henry couldn't contain himself any longer. He had been silent for days, unable to speak to anyone about what he was feeling and he couldn't stop the words from spilling from his mouth. "I wish none of this had ever happened. This is all my fault. The Hogwarts Express, the failure of the mission, her death..."

"It's not your fault," Draco said sharply. "It's not, Henry, and you can't think it is."

Henry dropped his face into his hands. "It is, Draco," he said, weakly. "I've done it all -"

"Stop it," Draco said. His voice was so firm that Henry looked up, feeling ashamed. "You're being a pansy, Henry. Honestly ... here I am, after being tortured and you're the one in need of comfort."

Unable to stop himself, Henry grinned, guiltily, at Draco. "Sorry, mate," he muttered.

Draco rolled his eyes, and spoke again. This time his voice was the most serious that Henry had ever heard it. "What happened has happened, all right. There's nothing we can do to change it and there's no point assigning blame. The only thing we can do now is get revenge."

"_Revenge_?" Henry repeated, looking astonished. Had Draco just really said exactly what Henry had been thinking?

"Well, what did you expect me to say?" Draco asked, immediately defensive. "That I'm just going to forget what he has done to me? Done to you? He killed Bellatrix, he tortured me, he's manipulated us, threatened us -"

"Draco, I'm not arguing with you," Henry said, feeling a little amused. "I agree with you." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "The only thing is, though, I don't know where to start. We'll be on our own, Draco - What?"

Draco looked uncomfortable. "I've been thinking about that. You're not going to like it, but ..."

Feeling apprehensive and certain that Draco was right about him not liking it, Henry asked, "What?"

"I think that you need to take the blood test, Henry."

Henry stared at him. "Excuse me?"

"I know what you're thinking, but it'll give us an advantage -"

"What kind of advantage?" Henry snarled. "That'll prove that my whole life was a lie -"

"It will if you make it that way!" Draco insisted. "Listen, Henry -"

Henry got to his feet, angry. "You don't understand -"

"I do understand!" Draco hollered. "You don't! If I could stand up, I would, and I'd come over there and hit you for being so stupid._ Listen to me._ If the Order believes that you're Harry Potter, they'll help you destroy the Dark Lord! They can help us! They want him dead too - what does it matter if the Light side helps us? I know neither of us want to admit it, but they're powerful; they've held off the Dark Lord for years ... Come on, Henry. Use them to your advantage! It's not like you're turning to the Light side, but why not let them think you are? We can use them!"

Henry stared at Draco, unable to believe his ears. Was Draco seriously suggesting this? His cousin looked sincere, and Henry couldn't refuse him now, with him all injured and it being his fault (no matter what Draco said).

"I'll think about it," he said, begrudgingly. "Okay?" He turned to leave, realizing that he was already late for classes.

He made it to the Hospital Wing doorway when Draco called out. "Henry." Henry turned to look at him, expectant; Draco was looking oddly contemplative. "You know it doesn't matter to me, right?" His voice was hesitant. "It doesn't matter to me who they think you are. You'll still always be my cousin."

Henry stared at Draco. Hearing his cousin, whom he had loved as his brother for years, speak those words suddenly lifted a great weight off his shoulders and Henry realized that he had been terrified that Draco would abandon him. He smiled, gratified, and said, quietly, "Thanks, Draco."

* * *

It had taken Henry two days to think about Draco's proposition. He had argued with himself, but in the end, Henry had always known that Draco was right. He would have to eventually take this test and it'd be better to take it on his terms, anyways, then having it forced upon him.

He was currently sitting on Draco's bed in the Hospital Wing, holding a white cloth over where Madam Pomfrey had drawn a vial of his blood about ten minutes ago. She hadn't healed in yet just in case she needed to draw more blood later and it was really, _really_, irritating.

Henry refused to look over to the other side of the room where the Potters, Black and Dumbledore stood. His dream about Lily Potter had reoccurred every night since the first time he dreamt it and he could barely bring himself to look at her.

The blood examining machine was whirring happily, shooting different coloured sparks and puffs of smoke into the air from four different towered turrets. It was unlike anything Henry had ever seen and it was taking an enormously long time to give out the results.

Henry was staring out the window to where the Ravenclaw Quidditch team was practicing. They were flying about without a care in the world, laughing and tossing the Quaffle back and forth. Henry envied them, envied their carefree lives.

There was a loud beep suddenly and Henry jolted in surprise. The machine had finished its analysis.

Madam Pomfrey pulled out a piece of parchment from one of the machine's towers and read it over. Without making any motion to say whether it was positive or negative, she handed the slip of paper to Dumbledore. Like her, the Headmaster read it in silence but then his face broke into a smile.

That was all Henry needed to see. As Henry's world completely fell away from him for good, he looked back out the Hospital Wing window, to a now deserted, lonely, Quidditch pitch.

* * *

Henry had been left alone by the rest of the school for the rest of that night for Dumbledore had made the announcement at dinner. Henry had been warned, briefly, beforehand that Dumbledore was going to tell everyone at the school, but still he was shocked that the old man had revealed it all so quickly. He was also quite shocked that the Potters had been willing to do it; he thought they were unendingly callous for revealing this when Henry hadn't adjusted to it at all yet.

The whole student body had avoided him since the announcement that evening. He'd tried, in vain, to go to the library to study for a huge test coming up (it was something to keep his mind occupied) but the stares and whispers had been unavoidable.

Finally, he left the library after the unproductive study session and came straight up to his dorm, collapsing on the bed. He didn't know how long he lay there because the curtains were drawn around his bed, shielding his alarm clock from sight. It must've been several hours after he'd arrived there – thinking nothing, feeling nothing – when the door creaked open and Henry heard soft footsteps enter.

"Is he asleep, d'you reckon?" whispered Seamus Finnigan's voice.

"I dunno," Weasley's whispered back. "I'd just want to sleep after what he's been through: losing his mum only to find out that she wasn't his mum in the first place."

There was a small silence and then Dean Thomas spoke. "So what do you guys think? About him being Harry Potter? Reckon it's true?"

The other boys didn't answer right away and then Weasley spoke. "He does look a lot like James Potter. And if Dumbledore thinks it's true ..."

Henry was disgusted, even more than usual when Weasley spoke. Who cared about what Dumbledore thought? The wizard knew nothing, _nothing_, about Henry! He thought Henry was a coward, a man who had run away from his responsibilities as a Death Eater to the sanctuary of Dumbledore's beloved school – he had no idea who Henry Lestrange was! He had no idea what Henry had done, who he had tortured, who he had killed! He was an old fool! The Dark Lord had been right all along about him–

The thought of Voldemort suddenly made Henry clench his jaw and his thoughts were instantly then onto his mother.

Thankfully, Seamus interrupted his thoughts with a snort. "We all know Dumbledore's a nutter, Ron. I don't believe it; after all, the Lestranges and Potters are related. It's not too hard to believe that Lestrange looks like James Potter."

"You're daft, Seamus," Thomas said. "I bet five you five Galleons that it's true –"

"Honestly," interrupted Longbottom's voice sharply. "Betting on something like this? You lot are really insensitive sometimes, you know that? The bloke's mother just died, for Merlin's sake. Do we really need to talk about this right now? Seriously, mates – have some tact."

The others fell silent and nothing more was said on the matter. Henry heard the sounds of his four roommates getting ready for bed. He tried to block them out, lest they speak any more about the previous subject, but then with the courteous 'goodnights' the room fell blissfully silent.

Suddenly, Henry was desperate for the conversation to begin again; even their incessant and nonsensical chatter was better than these thoughts that were threatening to overwhelm him. It remained quiet for a few moments, before Finnigan's voice rang out.

"I'll shut it after this, promise, but I just want to know: Neville, what do you reckon about Lestrange?"

Neville didn't answer for a few minutes and then, when he spoke, his voice was sadly thoughtful. "I think that, whatever's the truth, Henry has still lost his mother."

* * *

The next day, everywhere Henry went, people were whispering about him. Henry was currently on his way to Transfiguration, trying to ignore all the astonished looks and whispered theories of the Hogwarts student body. Most students had the grace to face silent as he passed, but then would resume their conversations the next moment.

"Did you hear?"

"I can't believe it."

"Him, Potter? What a load of –"

"I heard that that's why he was Sorted into Gryffindor."

"Did you hear what Jason Potter did when he found out?"

"Exploded, I reckon ..."

There was no avoiding it. Every possible theory or reasoning had been brought up, and Henry was infuriated with the whole situation.

What had possessed Dumbledore? How had telling the entire school that Henry Lestrange was Harry Potter been a good idea? Didn't the old man realize how hated the name of Lestrange was in these halls? How was telling these students that the boy they thought they had the right to despise was actually one of their prophesised heroes? It had been insanity to do so and Henry had never hated the old man more.

Henry entered the Transfiguration classroom just as the bell entered and so, thankfully, there was no time for any conversations. He got a seat at the back and was mercifully left alone for the whole class. Professor McGonagall ignored his very existence which was fine for him; he wished he could do the same thing.

After Transfiguration ended was Potions. Henry was dreading it and rightly so: if he had thought Severus Snape had looked at him in disgust and dislike beforehand, it was nothing compared to the looks the Potions Master now bestowed upon him. Henry had lost twenty points for Gryffindor for entering the classroom two minutes late, while a Slytherin had sauntered in after him and lost no points. When Henry had argued against it – he didn't care about losing the points, but rather the injustice of it – he lost another twenty.

Infuriated, Henry shut his mouth and resorted to giving Snape death glares. They were learning about something that Henry had known for two years and so, like always, he tuned out of the lecture.

That, it turned out, had been a very bad idea. Henry hadn't realized how furious Snape was about the revelation and if he had, he might've been paying attention when Snape tried to call on him for an answer.

Henry was jolted out of his reverie of thoughts about what he was going to do to Voldemort by a furious Snape charging towards him.

Oh shit, he thought briefly before Snape was in front of him. The Potions Master looked utterly furious, his dark eyes nearly bulging out of his head with rage.

"Perhaps you think yourself too important to pay attention, Mr _Potter_," he drawled out the name and Henry tried not to flinch. "You think that because you are now 'a hero', people will worship you? You, you insolent swine, have not seen the news. Not everyone is thrilled at the prospect of Henry Lestrange as the Potters' long lost son."

Truthfully, Henry hadn't seen the _Prophet _and had no desire to do so, but Snape flicked his wand and a copy slammed down onto the page in front of him. A picture of Henry, from where only Merlin knew, was on the front page, scowling under the headline_ Saviour or Scoundrel: Henry Lestrange revealed to be Harry Potter._

Henry clenched his hands into fists and tried to not react. He failed.

"Perhaps, Professor," Henry said, staring at Snape and trying to make his voice as cold as possible, "you haven't realized that I am one of those people who aren't thrilled. You think I want this? Maybe you should keep to teaching and I'll worry about my own life."

Snape looked like he wanted to punch Henry square on the nose, but then the bell rang. Henry shot out of his seat and was barely out of the classroom when Snape shouted after him, "Detention!"

Henry wanted to turn around and curse Snape, but he knew that that was just what he wanted, so he forced himself to keep walking. He walked all the way to the Hospital Wing, but Draco was asleep, so there was nowhere else for Henry to turn to except for his dorm room.

To his displeasure, the Gryffindor Common Room was crowded with students. As the portrait hole opened and Henry entered, it fell silent, as per the usual nowadays. Henry pushed his way through the crowd, scanning it briefly to see who was there.

Unfortunately, one of the last people Henry wanted to see - Jason Potter.

Henry had heard that Jason had nearly blown up his parents' bedroom when they'd told him about Henry. The boy was surrounded by Gryffindors, but his eyes immediately found Henry's. They locked briefly for a moment and then Henry continued on his way. Jason looked so furious and appalled that, for a moment, Henry had seen his own reaction there and seeing such a similar expression on someone whose face (Henry hated to admit it) was close to his own was too much. He hurried up to the dorm room and shut the door firmly behind him, leaning against it.

Henry hadn't had much to do with the Potters and he wasn't planning on it anytime soon. He knew there would come a time when he would have to face them, but for now he just wanted to wallow in his own misery.

* * *

Two weeks.

Two long, torturous weeks.

A fortnight gone already since Bellatrix's death.

It had passed slowly but now, looking back, Henry couldn't remember a single thing he'd done. The Potters still hadn't reached out to Henry, and Henry was glad to have his space. The Hogwarts students were still whispering about him in the halls, but it was starting to become old news. People were calling him 'Potter' now and that was the most irritating. Draco had been released from the Hospital Wing and the bigger news nowadays was his escape from Riddle Manor. Neville, Ron and Hermione were being lauded with praise for joining the new hero Henry (ahem - _Harry_) on the rescue mission.

But, all in all, nothing big had happened at all. The Light side had rejoiced at Henry's 'return' but there had been silence from the Dark side. Lord Voldemort hadn't acknowledged anything.

It was a scary thought, Henry realized as he climbed the stairs. To think that the man who you had looked up to your whole life was going to try to kill you was ... frightening.

He reached the top of the stairs and looked around him. He had been summoned to Dumbledore's office and Henry had no idea why. He hadn't done anything to warrant a visit to the Headmaster that he knew of and really, he didn't want to go there for some other new 'revelation.' What, was he also half-mermaid?

He'd been told the password was "Cauldron Cakes" and entered the office easily. To his immense surprise, Neville was there as well.

"Henry?" Neville said, equally as surprised. While some individuals might've started calling Henry 'Potter', his first name had stuck with a lot of people.

Henry shrugged at Neville. "What's going on?" he demanded of Dumbledore, who was standing behind a large, stone basin.

"There are some things that I need to tell you two about," he said simply.

Henry and Neville exchanged a look. "About what?" Neville inquired.

"Neville, you have known about the prophecy for years, but Harry -" (Henry flinched slightly at the name) -"you most likely never heard the whole thing in full."

It was true. He'd known it vaguely since he'd been little but the exact words had always been kept from him.

Pulling the large basin that Henry now recognized as a Pensieve towards him, Dumbledore gestured for Henry to come closer.

"You are familiar with this -?"

"Yes," Henry said shortly. He knew what was expected, so he dropped his head into the Pensieve. Immediately, he fell into a memory; it was one of Dumbledore's.

The Headmaster looked quite a bit younger, but still had his shiny silver beard and hair. He was listening, looking terribly bored, to a wild looking woman that Henry recognized as the Divination teacher Sybill Trelawney.

Henry was very confused. What the hell was he doing, being shown this memory?

Suddenly, the Dumbledore in the memory got to his feet. "Thank you for your time, but I'm sorry, Miss Trelawney. I don't think you'll be suitable for this position."

"But -" Trelawney sounded astounded and hurt.

"I'm sorry," Dumbledore said firmly. He turned to leave, but then Trelawney spoke again. This time her voice was hoarse and raspy and it made Dumbledore turn around. Her eyes were glazed over and she didn't seem to be present in her own body.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches," she whispered in that hoarse voice. "Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh months dies..." Both Henry and Dumbledore stood there, staring at her with agape mouths. She had been the one to have the prophecy? "... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ..."

Trelawney's voice faded into an echo in the cold room and, as Henry was tugged away from the memory, Sybill Trelawney shook herself awake from the prophecy.

Henry pulled out of the memory to see Neville and Dumbledore standing there. The words echoed strangely in his head: '... born as the seventh month dies ...'

He looked at the other two, thoughts racing through his mind. "But my birthday isn't in July - oh."

Dumbledore was smiling at him sadly, and Henry felt incredibly foolish all of a sudden. He'd forgotten; Henry Lestrange's birthday was in June, but Harry Potter's was July 31st.

"I don't understand," he said quietly. "What does it mean? Is it Neville or me?"

"That remains to be seen," Dumbledore said. "For the longest time, we believed it to be Neville, since you were assumed dead for so many years. But now ... now it could mean either of you."

Neville was looking oddly relieved, but Henry felt awful. The prophecy did technically apply to him, as much as he didn't want to admit it. And, besides, from what Henry knew of Neville, he had never even met Voldemort so how he could've been marked remained to be seen. Henry, however...

Subconsciously, he touched his forearm. The Dark Mark felt like a weight on Henry's arm. It wasn't necessarily something that Voldemort had done to 'mark him as his equal' but the Dark Lord only ever gave the Marks to people he allowed into his Inner Circle. In a twisted way, Henry could see how the prophecy might mean him.

It was terrifying.

"I know this is all so fast for you, Harry," Dumbledore said, "But I also know you." He was smiling wryly. "I know you won't be sitting here in Hogwarts, waiting around for Voldemort to come get you. I know you'll want to go after him right away."

That might've been a subtle dig to Neville, but the boy obviously didn't catch it for he was staring at Dumbledore with a very interested expression.

"But, before you do, there is something you need to know."

Henry and Neville just stared at him, both willing him to speak further.

The Headmaster sighed once and then said, "I'm talking, of course, of Horcruxes."

* * *

A/N: Dun, dun, duh ... Please review! Let me know what you thought of this one ... I'm not too sure about it ... but hopefully you enjoyed it :)


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